Love, Death, and Everything In Between
by Thacmis
Summary: Oz is out to avenge the death of his most beloved friend...but in his journey, not only does he find what he seeks, he also uncover some dark and startling secrets of his past...optional Oz/Gil, Oz/Alice, Break/Sharon, Oz/Sharon
1. Ch 1: Her End is His Beginning

CHAPTER 1

In every life, there comes an event for which one would sacrifice anything to change. The word "regret" does not even suffice to describe the emotion tagged to such a desire - it demolishes every sense of morality, of logic and of ethics, contracting the wide spectrum of knowledge collectively known as the mind into a single, narrow and rigid needle that pierces through anything and everything to obtain its goal. Such a state of mind is not a comfortable one to live with. The murky darkness suffocates. However, once one enters it, escape is difficult, almost impossible, if one does not try, because all desires are addictions of some sort. To avoid falling prey to a desire impossible to satiate - the desire to change the past - most sensibly and logically, one should just let it go.

But of course, it's not that easy.

xxxxx

An orphanage of the name Fianna's House dwelt at the very edge of a city perpetually covered in clouds. The orphanage was filthy and poor to a near baneful degree; the house creaked in the slightest wind, mold grew in every visible corner of the structure, and rats were daily visitors. The children who lived there hardly received half a slice of bread for a single meal. However, the maternal love distributed by the matron, a substantial nun of fifty, to her children, as she considered them, was deemed sufficient by its recipients to know the feeling of happiness.

Two such children were playing in Fianna's overgrown yard one day. Oz and Alice, both aged fifteen, were hopping from one area to another looking for treasures, talking about trivial things such as life. They had been friends since forever.

"How did you come here?" asked Oz.

"I dunno. I'm not sure. My first memory is wakin' up in Fianna's House. But…" Alice trailed off, falling into a rare state of deep contemplation.

"But what?" Oz prodded.

"But…I think I remember having a sister. I can't say for sure, but it's one of those things you'd never forget."

"You have a sister?"

"What's with you? What'd I just say?"  
>"Er…sorry." Oz scratched his head in embarrassment. Alice was rough in her normal speech, and Oz should be used to it by now, but his polite disposition made it hard to do so.<p>

"What about you?" Alice inquired.

"Me? No, same as you, except I have absolutely no memories at all. Nothing. And 'Oz' was apparently two letters written in ink on my wrist when I was found on Fianna's doorstep."

"Ah, well, what's the point in knowing? Probably just cause grief."

They wandered up the cracked sidewalk, stepping for amusement on bugs that were unfortunate enough to cross their path.

Oz glanced at Alice. The long, black-haired girl who preferred fists to words, meat to sugar, was one he could and probably would never understand and have enough of. The round face she possessed, always tinged with rouge, was cute, yet it framed a nature of quiet determination and a will to survive that was so beautiful to someone so prone to submit to death, like Oz. He fed off her energy; he did not know what to do without her. She was his life, the person he lived for. Her cheeks were like ripe peaches, her hair like luscious silk, her lips like soft pink candy, wet with the moisture of excitement…

"Oz! Look!"

Suddenly a pair of large violet irises turned and filled his entire view. Wandering lights caught the moisture within them and made them sparkle like a burst of celestial shower. Oh, the _colours_…

"Wha-what the flip? You're too close, man!" A savage push jerked him out of his poetic state.

"Alice?" Oz fell. He was terribly annoyed at the interruption of his fantasy. Then he saw that her cheeks were flushed.

"Oh-ho, blushing, aren't you? From…_love_?"

"Go away! Stupid Oz!" With another kick she stormed on ahead.

"Wait! Ah, Alice! I was just joking! Sorry!"

He caught up to her and apologized once more. The sky rumbled as if to show distaste in his prank.

"It's…all right," said Alice, quietly, "…it'd be nice if…if…"

Slowly, she turned to face him, her face a deeper shade of crimson than a sunset could produce. "I…um…"

"Yes? Yes?"

"I…"

Unfortunately, something caught Alice's eyes right at that moment.

"Food!"

Forgetting everything that happened in a single instant, she danced off towards her discovery, leaving Oz desolate with a deep, genuine hatred for food. He wondered how he could possibly come second - and a very, extremely_ distant_ second at that - to food, which isn't even human? Oz reluctantly trudged towards her. He intended to destroy his rival.

"Look, Oz! Pretty candy!"

Alice held up a small plastic bag filled with several pieces of sparkling pink candy that had little silver bubbles in them. They were made in very cute little shapes - just the kind that would attract a naïve little girl like Alice.

"Oy, Alice - " He took a closer look. They were very pretty indeed. Should he tell her to be careful and refrain from eating something she found on the ground? They could be poison, drugs. But she should know that, right?  
>"Let's go home, Alice. Looks like it's about to rain. Alice?"<p>

Oz looked up, just in time to see her pop one into her mouth.

"Alice! You _dummy_!" He tried to pry her mouth open, but Alice, in a playful mood from discovering pretty candy, just locked her mouth tighter, and swallowed it. She smiled triumphantly. "Come on, Oz, relax! It's just candy. _Now_ let's go!" She pocketed the bag and stood up to leave.

Oz was frightened, but she seemed okay, so he'll relax for now.

He was wrong.

All of a sudden she lurched forward, gurgling and spitting, choking on her own tongue.

"A-Alice?"

She began to tremble, first slowly, then so violently Oz swore an animal was throwing a tantrum inside her body. Screams of pain and torture erupted from her throat, and she began scratching at her head and face, drawing deep streaks of blood, which trailed out in thick rivulets from her eyes, like she was crying. Juts of bones began angling out abnormally from her body. Her violet eyes turned black, and so did her cornea, so when the transformation completed, she looked like a beast. The creature sniffed, and turned around to see Oz. It snarled most grotesquely.

Oz was shocked into dumbness until now. With the inhuman eyes now staring at him, he started, and whispered tentatively, "Alice?" To which it screamed in reply and charged at him, fangs out, claws drawn, spilling intent to kill.

"Stop! Alice! Listen to me!" Oz sobbed in fear. He tried to subdue her, tried to pin her down, but for some reason, the drug had made her unusually strong; it made her so strong that when she lashed out at him, her claws cut the metal fence beside him clean in two.

They struggled for a long time, and the sky began pouring rain. He was wet, and so was she, whose face and body were now unrecognizable as what had been once human. The rain mingled with his salty tears of angst and fear: this was his fault, and he feared that the change was permanent. How could this day go so wrong? She - or it - snarled in frustration, baring her teeth at him, and that was when he saw it - the black substance that was pooling at the back of her throat. It looked like it was melting off her flesh.

Just at that point she stopped struggling with Oz. She had another struggle to deal with. The black substance was blocking her airway, and she began to choke.

"Alice? Alice!" Oz didn't know what to do. He was shocked into dumbness for a second time when he saw that her flesh was beginning to peel off and melt into black liquid. It was a terrible sight to behold, and her screams echoed like death in Oz's ears.

Then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over. The scream suddenly cut off, and Alice - or what was left of her - fell over into the mud, dead.

"Alice?" Oz whispered. "Alice?" The rain poured harder.

"No…no…" What had he done? It was entirely his fault. His stupid assumptions. Why didn't he tell her? Why? _Why_? The feeling of madness began to devour him, and soon he could do nothing but let his self-hatred and anger take over his mind.

He screamed her name into the relentless sky.

A little way off, the bag with the candy sat covered in mud, the label on it just barely legible:

_ Pandora._


	2. Ch 2: Pandora Headquarters

CHAPTER 2

_Pandora._

Pandora Headquarters. An enormous mansion of red brick that housed an ancient organization made obscure and nearly mythical by the rumours that floated around the city. Some said it was in black market trading. Others said it was some sort of cult. Whatever the rumours were, they were not pleasant. The only way to discover the truth was to enter the building.

Oz stood before the tarnished gates, his tattered suitcase and coat in hand. The place was the only lead he had - the only thing he had found with the name _Pandora _- to get revenge against whoever had so disgustingly took his best friend's life away from him. He didn't have a plan in mind; he was just going to go with the flow. He was also too afraid to make any decisions in his present state of mind.

He had sat for several hours, screaming and repenting with tears, beside the mutilated corpse of Alice. The whole time the sky had cried with him, soaking him with her tears until he could no longer feel the cold, leaving only a pain in his heart that nothing but perhaps time could wash away, and even that seemed like a minute possibility. The earth around them darkened in colour from both the rain and the dark blood of Alice, eagerly absorbing the rich nutrients. Time still flowed linearly forward, waiting for nothing, stopping for nothing. He hated it. Hated the blunt insensitivity of nature. The cruelty of time. He had hit the earth with all his might, until his knuckles bled, but it continued its existence in its usual immobile fashion, oblivious to his troubles.

When his initial tide of madness subsided, he came to see his environment. His clothes, besides being wet, were stained with the red and black of blood and the yellow of the beast's saliva. Several slashes marked his arms where the claws had dug in during the fight. They didn't hurt, though. They felt good, actually, compared to the pain that rotted in his heart.

Knowing that his matron would not stand the sight, he had buried Alice, leaving a pretty blue rock on the mound to mark the place. Muttering a few words of eulogy, Oz then left for Fianna's House, thinking of some simple excuses to account for their absence and his bloodied state. She believed his words that Alice and he had been attacked by a mad dog, and that she had died during the incident. She also consented, although not without some reluctance, to let him go and live by himself - she knew he would not tolerate living in the same house he had once done with a beloved friend. He packed what little he possessed, and hit the road.

His search for _Pandora_ had now led him to the intimidating red mansion. Oz planned to enter as one searching for a job as a servant, a plan he surmised would have a high probability of succeeding, since such an enormous mansion could never have enough servants.

The word "huge" was too small to describe the place. Oz gaped at the building, the high-quality of the maintenance, as he entered the estate.

Oz spotted a man clad in a tattered black cloak with erect shoulders walking a few yards before him. Perhaps that man could help him.

"Uh…sir? Sir!" Oz called, breaking into a jog.

The man turned and trained startling golden irises upon Oz. His handsome face, framed by attractively unkempt ebony hair, other than a slight widening of eyes, showed no sign of emotion.

"Forgive me, sir," Oz stumbled, flushing from both exertion and embarrassment, "but would you be so kind as to tell who is in charge of this place?"

A pause ensued, after which the man spoke in a solid tenor voice. "There is a shed if you walk over there," he said, pointing. "You'll find a man named Oscar, and he may help."

Oz smiled and bowed, eager to show his gratitude. "Thank you sir!"

With that he headed towards the destination. When he reached the shed, a slight knock on the door brought forward a tall, bespectacled, heavily-built man with a kind face.

"Sorry for the intrusion, sir - "

"Call me Uncle Oscar."

"Uh...Uncle Oscar. I'm searching for a job. Will you take me in as a servant? I won't take any pay; food and bed would be all I'd like to have."

Uncle Oscar cleared his throat and shifted his weight as he scanned Oz's thin profile. He took a long time. When the length of the silence seemed almost equivalent to a rejection, the man burst into a rumbling laughter.

"Why, this is fine, fine indeed! Pandora's servants are beginning to run thin. We hardly get any new faces nowadays."

Oz waited, unsure of what he was insinuating.

Uncle Oscar seemed to sense Oz's confusion. "I mean, why yes! Of course I'll take you in!" He shuffled Oz inside the little wooden building. "Would you like to start today?"

"Yes, please!"

"Good lad! Here is your uniform - you'd better burn the clothes you're wearing now. If you're caught with those rags on the guards'll no doubt kick you out."

"Yes sir - Uncle Oscar."

"Now as for your first duty, you'll bring these - " He lifted a basket of clothes out of nowhere - "to Mme. Eddington, the laundrywoman. She's waiting right now, I think, in the third floor of the mansion. This was originally my duty, actually," he added sheepishly. "Well, before you came. Now run along."

With that, Uncle Oscar left the shed, leaving Oz space to change.

xxxxx

Mme. Eddington was a nice lady, though stern, for she reprimanded Oz and Uncle Oscar for their lack of hastiness. Pitying the inexperience of young Oz, she gave him some tips and warnings about the people of Pandora: they were not kind folks, especially not to servants, for many were nobles with a prepossessed bias towards the lower-class, and they were always too busy to leave room for anything that lay beyond the jurisdiction of their jobs. It was best, she added, to stay out of their way.

"Stay out of their way," he muttered. "I'll stay out of their way." He knew too well the venom of such bias. After all, he had grown up within the poorest part of town in the poorest orphanage of the town, and had been victim to not just a few prejudiced snobs.

As he walked with the empty laundry basket down the enormous, red-carpeted hallway whose walls were adorned by sculptures and paintings of fantastic creatures - black griffins, purple ravens - he spotted a man walking a little ways ahead of him. He appeared to be the same man Oz had first talked to on the grounds of Pandora. The man's slow, irregular striding implied that his mind was floating somewhere beyond the plane of reality. Oz watched, amused, with a spark of concern as the man's long tattered cloak caught the edge of a tall mahogany shelf. The man, jerked out of his reverie, cursed unintelligibly and tugged at his cloak. It came free, and the man continued on his stroll, oblivious to the quivering and the tilting of the stand. It tottered, leaned sideways, and -

"Watch out!" Oz shouted, flinging his basket aside, rushing forward instinctively to protect the man.

The man had only just noticed, though too lately to leap out of harm's way.

_Crash!_

"Ahh-h-h..." Oz groaned at the pain in his head. He was lying on top of something soft and warm. He opened his eyes to see a wide pair of golden eyes staring back at him. Oz held the gaze, and then realized that the man might very well be a member of Pandora, or a guest at least, judging from the elegant clothes he wore.

"Sorry!" Oz burst, leaping back, hands up to show his innocence. What had he done? Wasn't he just telling himself to _stay of their way_?

The man sat up slowly. "Who are you?"

"I'm Oz, a new servant!" Oz answered quickly.

"Oz?"

"Yes, sir."

The man glanced at Oz again, and then looked away. Silence followed. Oz wondered what was happening within that handsome head of his. He tried to make conversation.

"Uh…what is your name…sir?"

The pale face flushed a little. "Gilbert. Nightray." He seemed embarrassed, almost shy.

"Mr. Nightray, then?"

"Just Gil's fine."

"Gil, then? Okay," Oz said with light tones as he stood up. "I'm sorry to have caused any trouble for you." He kneeled and went about setting the stand upright again, and to his surprise, Gil helped. Perhaps the members of Pandora weren't as bad as Mme. Eddington had made them seem. Together they heaved the furniture up in silence.

When they finished, Oz clapped his hands. "Well, then," he said, "thank you sir, for your help. I'll be on my way no-"

"Why did you help me?"

Oz started at the abruptness. "Pardon me?"

"You knew that I'm strong enough to handle a fall like that. Why did you…I mean, I'm not ungrateful or anything, but -"

Oz smiled. "Well, you helped me before. A kind deed begets another, as someone once told me. And also, well, life is much more meaningful when you have someone to protect." The man started. "At least, that's just my philosophy," Oz added hastily after seeing his reaction.

The clear golden irises were trained on the boy with an inscrutable expression - some mixture of awe and wonder, and another sensation not at all familiar to Oz. Bowing, Oz muttered another apology and hurried on his way, unaware that the man continued his stare until he disappeared around the corner.

xxxxx

"Oz! Wonderful timing!" Uncle Oscar boomed, his large ruddy face breaking into a relieved grin as Oz returned to the shed with the laundry basket.

"Yes sir? I mean, Uncle Oscar?"

"The hedges are in need of trimming - in fact, it should be done by _tonight_- but I've got another rather urgent business to run. I must thank the stroke of luck that brought you here today."

"Hedges?"

"Yes, here're the trimmers," said the man, rushing about the little shed searching for whatever his "urgent business" required, handing Oz some worn and rusted garden tools.

"Just cut them about the height of your waist. Now then - "

"Uh, thank you, Unc-"

"I'm counting on you now, lad! Goodbye!" Moving surprisingly quickly for the bulk of his body, Uncle Oscar disappeared outside, his cloak fluttering behind him.

Oz walked with the tools in hand to the dark emerald hedges that marched around the mansion. He began to snip, reflecting on the events of the day. Everything had flowed in his favour so far. As a servant, gossip and rumours were concomitant to the job; digging for secrets and possible connections between the pink candy he kept in his inner shirt and the Pandora organization should not be so difficult. Eavesdropping could be easily excused for, while he could take advantage of run-ins with Pandora members to solicit information. Perhaps he could even befriend one or two Pandorans, like that Gilbert Nightray he met today.

Gilbert Nightray. That man gave Oz the most alien sensation. Who was he, exactly? Though he appeared much older than Oz, his actions conveyed the mind of a mere child; he was clumsy, absent-minded, and he had even _blushed_! Oz giggled at the memory. A grown man, blushing! That was a sight to behold. Hopefully Gil was as naïve as he seemed childish, and then Oz could extract information from him. Then, once he finds the path to whoever made that drug…

Oz refocused on his task. This was not the time to be morbid.

A glitter in his peripheral vision caught his attention. It came from beneath the hedge a little ways to his right. Curious, Oz went to investigate. Raising the leaves slightly revealed a lustrous fist-sized sapphire rock which he made the mistake of lifting. Before there was time to wonder what on earth such a pretty rock was doing here - it had obviously been placed deliberately, with dirt carefully scrubbed aside for the placement - a hole opened up below his feet through which he fell quite unfashionably, screaming at the unpleasant surprise.


	3. Ch 3: Secrets

_Note: I've tried to maintain the essential traits of each character, but the only one I had to make an exception of was Sharon…I had to tweak her personality a bit to suit my purposes. Remember how Sharon acts when she's drunk? Somehow my Sharon turned out that way, but not drunk… _

CHAPTER 3

Oz coughed. The air smelled thick and heavily polluted with an unpleasantly musky odour. He looked up to see where he had fallen from, and saw a tiny brightness above. He had fallen so far! How should he come up again?

Perhaps, thought Oz, this place was a secret of some sort to the Pandora organization. He could use the opportunity to investigate.

Getting up from the soft earthly ground, brushing off the dust, Oz looked around. Because of the lack of light he could not make out much, but from what he could it was a rather small room, almost bare, irregular in shape as if it had been dug out by an old man splurging on a last spike of adrenaline before death brought him the bucket to kick. By rubbing his fingertips along the walls he discovered that the room _was _literally a room dug out in the earth; the walls were nothing but dirt and a few protruding roots from some plants above. The thickness and stench of the air implied that he was quite far beneath in the ground. Then, a few tentative steps forward brought him his umpteenth surprise of the day.

A cage, the size of which could hold a large lion, wrought of blackened metal, hid in the darkness before him. It had no doors to be made out and the individual bars were placed so tightly adjacent that Oz could barely make out what it held.

He peeked inside, and saw an emaciated young girl - or, more accurately, a girl who_ seemed_ rather young, because though her features were those of an adolescent human she had flowing white hair. Her arms were chained above, and from the abnormal limpness of her muscles, Oz presumed that she was unconscious.

"Oi? You okay? Hey!" He called quietly. She did not stir, and so he squinted to better make out her features. He realized with a shock that, aside from her hair colour, she looked _exactly_ like Alice.

"Hey, can you hear me? Can you hear me…_Alice_?" He spoke tentatively.

To his shock, the last word in his question solicited a reaction from the girl. So horrified and happy at the same time was he that his chaotic emotional mixture stopped for a moment all process of thought. Could he dare to hope that this girl was Alice? But he had seen her die…

"Alice!" He shook the cage.

By this time, the stench overwhelmed his senses. The cage fell sideways, and he plunged into oblivion.

xxxxx

A tiny orb of light appeared. It shined with such a warmth that it melted the cold, black prison of revenge that had been keeping Oz's heart in captivity; so brilliant it was that Oz felt compelled to follow it. Just as he came within a hair's breadth of reaching it, he opened his eyes to behold the pale, handsome face of Gilbert Nightray. The man was seated beside the bed in which Oz lay, apparently concentrating on a book that he was holding upside down.

Oz chuckled. "Sir, your book is upside down."

Gil started, and then turned a deep shade of crimson. He kept his eyes averted as he closed his book quickly and asked, with a tone of embarrassment, "How are you feeling?"

Oz sat up, smiling with amusement. "I'm fine. But where am I? How did I…?" He looked around. They were in a small cozy room, painted in blue, with little but elegant furniture.

"You're in my bedroom. Jack…er…_Vessalius _- my friend - found you unconscious in the garden, and he brought you here."

"Garden? But I fell into a hole…" Oz was baffled. Maybe it was all a dream. It was all too weird, anyways. That Alice look-a-like…

"A hole?" Gil inquired politely.

"Sorry, nothing. Er, anyways," Oz changed the topic. "Why didn't he just bring me to Uncle Oscar?"

"He was out."

"Oh, right. Right," said Oz, recalling, embarrassed.

Silence ensued. Oz studied Gil. The man looked as bashful and awkward as ever. Shoulders stiff, brows furrowed, hands clasped, he seemed thoroughly uncomfortable.

"Um, Oz," Gil began, "w-would you like-"

With a sudden bang the door flew open, and there stood a very pale man with silver hair in a purple suit who was grinning as if the entire world was his chessboard. Oz shuddered at the sudden intrusion, but for some reason could not come to dislike the visitor.

"Hel_lo_, Gilly! And _oh_, who is _this_ new face? Did you _finally_ make a _friend_?"

"Break! You -! Can't you come in normally?" yelled Gil, jumping up.

"Oh, don't be such a _meanie_." Ignoring the meanie, Break turned to Oz. "Well, hullo there. Who might _you_ be?"

"I'm Oz, a new servant. I fell down on my job and he let me recover here."

"So _nice_! But why to a _stranger_," Break feigned sadness.

Gil groaned with resignation.

Behind Break followed the most beautiful girl Oz had ever seen; light auburn hair swirled about a small head, framing a pair of lavender irises and a petite button of a nose on a face of a perfect milky complexion. Her slim yet curvy figure showed through quite attractively with a low-cut purple dress, and the smoothness of her extremities was accentuated by a decoration of shiny rocks and jewels. Oz could not keep his eyes off her. She was so-

"_Shmexy_ today, aren't you, Sharon?" cooed Break, encircling her waist with his arm.

"Yes, m'dear."

Wait. She was his girlfriend?

"Oh look, this is Sharon Rainsworth, _my beau_. And Sharon, this is Oz, a new servant who - hmm, he seems to be taking an_ interest_ in you."

Oz blushed. "No, I'm not!"

"Don't talk nonsense, Break," muttered Gil angrily, to Oz's surprise.

Break raised his eyebrows.

Sharon cat-walked over to Oz, sat down next to him, and pressed her body against his, taking his face in her hands. "Are you all right?" She asked breathily.

"Ah-uh-erm-w-what are you doing?" Oz fumbled. His hands fluttered around, wondering whether to push her away or hold her closer.

"What?" she drawled. "I'm just concerrrned."

"But-but-but you're boyfriend's right here!"

Sharon giggled alluringly and moved closer. Oz's face, which would soon explode from an over-abundance of blood, turned towards Break in horror, who, to his utmost shock, was _laughing._

"Don't worry, Oz! I mean, _I _don't worry. You see," he said with a subtle sneer, "I am _perfectly _confident about my relationship with her. It doesn't _matter _to me who she's with. She'll always loves me _best_."

Oz gaped. Where on earth did such confidence come from?

"Stop!" Suddenly Gil came to interfere - or to rescue, Oz couldn't decide which - and jerked Sharon away from Oz. He couldn't perceive why Gil would be so mad…unless Gil secretly liked Sharon?

Darn, that's two rivals.

"We'd all better get back to work. If Zai catches us-"

"Zai? Who's Zai?" asked Oz.

"Gilly, you didn't tell the new servant about who he's working for? _Bad, bad_."

Gil turned to look at Oz. "You don't know about Pandora?"

Oz looked away sheepishly. "Not really, sorry."

"Well, he should know about us, shouldn't he, deeearr Break?" crooned Sharon.

"Yes, he _must_. Well, what _do_ you know about it?"

"It's an…organization of some sort, right?"

"Yes, that's right," confirmed Break. "It's an organization that specializes in the research of drugs. The reason that you don't know much about it is because we do things that…_probably_ won't be looked on with favour by the public. So we prefer to remain hidden."

"What kind of things? What kind of drugs?"

"Oh, a _curious_ one, aren't you? Just be patient, now. Well, Pandora is headed by Zai Vessalius, with four smaller vice presidents: Duke Nightray, Lady Rainsworth, Rufus Barma, and Jack Vessalius. _Yes_, Jack Vessalius is Zai's son. _Yes,_ Sharon is Lady Rainsworth's daughter. _By the way_, the_ resemblance_ between you and Jack is _simply remarkable_."

"Yes, yes! He does, doesn't he, dear Break?"

"_Very_ much so. And Gilly?"

"Yes, yes, quite."

"Anyways, Pandora develops and makes the drugs that you buy in pharmacies, which have saved _many_ a life, so do not complain about our lack of humanity in what we do. What we produce more than compensates. Right now Pandora is undertaking a special project on a new type of street drug that came into existence around the time Zai became our boss - I believe that was about…_five_ years ago? The drug is called the Abyss. We do not know where it came from. It is quite dangerous; from the studies done, it seems that the drug exponentially speeds up the production of hormones and cell replication, turning the users into beasts of superhuman power. We call those turned by the drug _chains_, because the users are chained to the drug. It is permanent; the effects cannot be reversed. The Abyss sounds quite _divine_, does it not? Superhuman strength. Is that not what we _all_ want?"

"What all _men_ want," muttered Sharon indignantly.

Break continued, ignoring her comment. "It comes, though, with a great price. To expedite the functions of the body means to expedite _life_. Thus, chains do not survive more than an hour at the most. Death by the Abyss is rather disgusting. If you have ever seen it…well, let's hope that you won't.

"Pandora's special project has two objectives: first, to find the Abyss' origins and stop the production; and second, to find how we can engineer it to benefit the greater public. Our scientists have said that there are many potentially useful elements inside the drug. _Our_ job, however - Gilly's, Sharon and mine - is not with the drugs, but to bring in chains early in the stage of transformation for research, and kill any who are too far into the transformation to be useful anymore. We try to keep the Abyss relatively unknown from the public."

As Oz listened to Break's explanation, the angrier and more shocked he became. Angry, because it was the carelessness of Pandora that had lead to Alice's death - someone had dropped such a confidential, dangerous bag of the drug on the street; and shocked, because he had landed himself inside the most perfect situation to carry out his investigation. Both emotions struggled for dominance. He couldn't speak for a minute.

"_Quite _a load of information, is it not? You must have _time_ to digest this."

Oz nodded dumbly.

Break examined the stiff figure of Oz, then wondered aloud, "You _know_, I'm rather curious as to why you chose to come work _here_, out of all the possible places. Haven't you heard the _stories _about this mansion?"

"Break. Do you _try_ to scare people away?" objected Gil.

"Oh, I don't expect him to believe them. They're just myths. Besides, since he's working for Pandora, he might as well know more about it, myth or fact."

Oz needed a diversion from the turmoil of his mind, and this seemed sufficient. He looked up.

Break grinned at his successful manipulation of Oz's attention. "All right, I'll tell you one."

"Oooh, tell him the one about the girl!" chirped Sharon, settling down next to Oz.

"If you insist, m'lady. I'll make it short and sweet.

"There was once a girl of substantial power in the ranks of Pandora. One of the servants became infatuated with her, and unfortunately, she reciprocated his feelings. The head of Pandora at the time knew of this - the only one who did - and allowed such a coupling, but on _one condition_: he must protect her with all his life. In other words, _he must die before she does_. But one day, Lady Luck was angry and during a mission the girl was killed. It was an accident that couldn't be helped. However Pandora's head didn't see it that way, and ordered the servant's death. And thus, to this very day, his ghost haunts the mansion, making sure that a servant dies before a member does." Break smiled darkly, expecting to have frightened Oz.

The story resounded with Oz; the failure to protect a love and the consequent punishment brought back a fresh wave of pain over his scabbing heart. However, he cocked his head nonchalantly, and asked, "Is it true?"

"In the past, there has been but _two _Pandorans who died on a mission, but on _both _occasions, yes, a servant had died as well."

"Oh."

Break angled his eyebrows, bemused. "You're very calm. Aren't you afraid that, in coming here, you've shortened your life?"

"I…couldn't care less about my own life," said Oz with an indifferent smile. Alice had been the only beam of light in his miserable, insignificant little life; with it diminished, the darkness seemed no different than if he were to close his eyes forever. He also felt that to want to live was to disrespect her death. Besides, if he were to make himself insignificant, there was less chance of his being a burden to those around him.

"That's…a very irresponsible way to think," said Gil quietly.

"What?" Oz was surprised. How could anyone contradict another's perspective of life?

"It's irresponsible. It's a burden for the people who love you."

Oz' anger was kindled. "How so?"

"They'll always be worrying about your safety."

"That's weak."

"This is all _very_ amusing, but please find your own time to chat," interfered Break. "Oz, did you really feel _nothing at all_ at the story?"

Oz turned to him, grateful for his interrupting the tension. "No, not really. It's kind of touching to see that kind of devotion."

Gil made a sound. Break looked at him. "Gilly? Do you have something to say?"

"I…I thought the man wasn't very smart. He's just a servant. He should know he couldn't have protected her."

Oz's blood began to boil. How could anyone know when protection was going to fail?

"He shouldn't have told her he loved her at all; his love wasn't going to help her, just slow her dow-"

"_Shut up! What the hell do you know?_" Oz's small, kindled anger erupted into a bonfire within a flash of a moment at those words. He leaped up from the bed and flung the pillow at the offender, forgetting that he was a mere servant in the presence of three rather powerful figures of a secret and potentially dangerous organization, and stormed out of the room.

xxxxx

Gil rubbed his temple, feeling shocked, hurt and baffled at the same time. What had he said that could incite such fury?

"I'm rather curious," said Break. "I have _never _seen you so attached to_ anyone _before."

"Shut up." Gil coloured.

"But that Oz..._does_ seem interesting. His resemblance to Jack is _simply astonishing_. Resemblance to Jack who…" As Break cogitated, he appeared to have come upon a sudden revelation, for his eyes widened and his expression flashed a rare display of genuine shock. "No, could he - he couldn't be - "

"Stop." Gil stood abruptly, looking pained. "Please don't make me hope."


	4. Ch 4: Tensions and Agitations

CHAPTER 4

How dare he? How _dare _that seaweed head? To speak so freely and uncaringly about such a delicate subject - and to criticize someone else's perspective of life - meant that Gil had never experienced such a love or a like situation, and this inference made Oz even more furious. A person who knew nothing about a subject should just keep quiet. Oz could not - would not - stand being lectured about "rightness" or "wrongness" by someone so ignorant. Gil evidently did not know what it felt like to fail to protect someone.

Oz was so angry, so confused, so pissed that Uncle Oscar's shed came into view before he knew how he got there.

Uncle Oscar opened the door before Oz had a chance to knock. The burly man was back from his "urgent" business. "Oz! You have a wonderful talent for good timing!" He seemed agitated.

"Is something the matter?" inquired Oz, temporarily pushing aside his anger.

"Yes, quite bad. Come in, come in." The door was closed. "Elliot Nightray - a Pandora member - has just disappeared, and the day before a major mission, too!"

"Elliot Nightray?"

"Yes, a fierce young lad who's Gilbert Nightray's partner in missions. Oh, Gil is -"

"I know; I met him today. His friend Break told me about Pandora."

"Why, that's good! That shortens my explanation. There's a major mission for them tomorrow, and unfortunately there is no Pandoran available to substitute Elliot. Master Zai has asked me to lend him one of the servants, and you're the only one I can spare. Will you…?"

Oz was reluctant; it meant working with the seaweed head. But the mission may uncover secrets that he was seeking about the drug, and so he agreed.

Uncle Oscar smiled with relief. "I knew I could count on you."

"No problem, Uncle Oscar."  
>"The mission will be tomorrow morning at seven. There will be a carriage waiting at the gateway. Pack your things for a two day trip. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be going to inform Master Zai of this wonderful news."<p>

Uncle Oscar walked out of the shed once again with his cloak fluttering behind him.

xxxxx

The sky was blue, the sun was shining, and Oz was determined not to let the unhappy moments of yesterday control his actions of today. Well, other than ignoring seaweed head, he was going to be his usual, cheerful self.

He met them - Gil, Break and Sharon - at the gate. Oz didn't meet Gil's eyes, but from the periphery of his vision he could see Gil was paler and more sullen-looking than usual. Break wore a purple suit alike the one he wore yesterday, except deeper in shade, and the same mischievous grin was sprawled lazily across his face. Sharon was more attractive than ever: today she wore a simple pink gown that alluringly emphasized the natural rouge of her cheeks. Again, Oz couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

"Good _morning_, Oz! Aha_ha_…still interested in my Sharon?"

Sharon giggled, and Oz blushed.

"Good morning, sir."

"_Don't_ be so formal. Call us by our names! I believe you have _plenty _of right to -"

"Break!"

Gil was sharp in his call, and Oz started. A look full of meaning passed between them, while Oz speculated that it must about him and wondered what they were keeping from him. But, as he knew that nosiness was looked upon with distaste, especially by him who had plenty of secrets he did not care to reveal, he let it pass and approached another subject.

"Er…so where are we going today?"

"A town called Levereaux. Ever heard of it? It's a ten-hour drive."

"And…what are we doing?"

Break smiled mysteriously. "Just what our job requires us to do."

That was cue for an end of discussion. Oz fought to keep his eyes from rolling at all the frustrating secrets that floated around him just beyond reach. To release his mind from the unease, he turned his attention to Sharon.

"So…uh…do you do this often?" Oz could care less about the people watching. Break didn't mind at all, or so he claimed; and Gil, being a potential rival, was all the more worth competing against.

She smiled. "It's a very irregular job, you know, Oz. Sometimes, three times a week. Sometimes, only once an entire month."

"Do you…do you enjoy it much?" As he spoke he subconsciously moved a bit closer to her.

She did likewise. "_Ver_rry much," she breathed.

Right then their awaited carriage clattered up the paved road towards them. Gil seized the moment to barge right between the two, shouldering aside Sharon a little more roughly than an average gentleman could be excused for doing. Oz stared with bafflement; why would he take out his jealousy on the girl that he liked, not his potential rival? He heard Break chuckle.

The four assembled into the carriage. Naturally, Break and Sharon sat together on one side of the carriage, forcing Gil and Oz to sit together on the other side. Oz wiggled as far away from his partner as possible, and in his eagerness for distance he failed to notice an expression of pain flash across Gil's pale face.

Oz was still pretty annoyed at the seaweed head. Since he saw the irritation that his flirtation with Sharon had caused, he wanted to increase it, and to do so meant that Oz must continue where he had been interrupted. Oz happily committed himself to it: he would have revenge on Gil for the latter's rude remarks of last night while he might also attain the favour of the girl of his dreams.

"So Miss Rainsworth -"

"Call me Sharon, Oz."

Progress! "Sharon…will _you_ tell me the details of this mission?"

"I'm afraid that's beyond my jurisdiction." She gave a pretty little sigh.

"Please?" He glanced at Break; the man was staring thoughtfully at the landscape rushing past the window. He leaned closer to her.

She smiled demurely in return, melting him with a smoldering gaze. "Give me a kiss." She offered her cheek.

What? Oz's heart thumped frantically in his cage. Was she joking? Was she serious? He hoped she was. But what about Break? And -

Oh. The cheek.

But it was more than adequate for a start. The faint aroma of sweet perfume rose up to greet his nose and he edged towards her for more of it, inhaling, while drinking in the sparkling colours of her irises and lashes…

"Sharon! Behave yourself!" Gil's sudden reprimand jerked him out of his fantasy. It ruined the moment badly. The man was staring at Sharon with such an intense look of distaste and pain that Oz, for a second, wondered if he had gone too far. But that feeling of contrite lasted only temporarily, for Gil turned on Oz as well.

"And you should learn to know people better before getting familiar with them -"

"How's it any of your business in how I associate with anyone?"

Gil looked as if someone had punched him. Staring at Oz for several, long, seconds with an inscrutable expression in which pain was unmistakable, his golden irises brighter than ever from sunbeams flashing by, Gil then lowered his eyes, muttered an apology and looked away.

Oz felt terrible. He looked at Sharon, who returned the look with a soft expression of apology. Even though Gil seemed rather unreasonable and nosy at times, the attitude that Oz had given in return may have been ruder than what Gil deserved. Reflecting on his past actions, now with a bit of regret, he saw everything from Gil's side and criticized himself harshly: last night he had been too presumptuous, completely disregarding the fact that Gil knew nothing about his past, nothing about why his remarks could so upset Oz. Gil didn't know about Oz's circumstances, so how could he know what would insult? And today, when he had scolded the two of them, perhaps he only meant well. Oz should have given more thought to Gil's feelings. How would he feel if Gil was the one making moves on the girl he loved, in front of him?

Regret and contrition overpowered his senses, and he wanted right at the moment to apologize, if only for catharsis. But no; pride and propriety overruled his decision, and he urged himself to wait until a proper moment came by.

They rode for perhaps nine hours with relatively few attempts at and even fewer attempts to continue conversation, with short stops for breaks in between. Then they arrived at Levereaux, and were parked in front of a homely inn called The Sabrie. The four climbed out of the carriage, pulled their luggage out, and bid the driver thanks and farewell. The sky had turned pleasant shades of yellow and orange, and a wonderful, languid warmth became the evening air.

"Is this where the mission's supposed to happen?" asked Oz, after the carriage clattered away.

"Oh, _no_," answered Break, "_Far _from it, Oz. That's another half a day's drive, and we're just at this inn to stop for a night."

"Oh."

"This is an inn I'm _quite_ familiar with. We're regular customers."

"You're in luck, Oz," piped in Sharon. "We get discount for being regular."

Oz smiled in gratitude. In truth, however, he didn't really care. He was impatient to resolve the misunderstanding between the sullen Gil and himself.

He glanced at Gil. The man was still as pale, sullen and expressionless as ever. Oz sighed. He hoped Gil was more forgiving than how he looked.

They entered The Sabrie. The lobby was comfortably furnished with beige sofas and tall plants, the floor of which was grey marble and the walls of which were lined with mild floral patterns. As Oz observed the room, he heard Gil offering in his low tenor voice to go order two rooms for the four and asking Break for any sort of preferences. Break shook his head, and Gil went off to talk to an old lady at the front desk, with Sharon trailing behind him.

After Gil was safely out of earshot, Break approached Oz.

"Ready for this mission?"

"I suppose so. But I'd be more ready if you told me what it's about."

Break grinned slyly, his one crimson iris glinting enigmatically in the sunset. "You'll have to wait until tomorrow."

"I guess I shouldn't expect more."

"But I _will _give you a hint."

"Hint?"

Break leaned closer as if to emphasize the importance of this hint. "You'd be much better off in this mission if you had better _relations_ with those you work with."

At first Oz thought Break was implying a distaste for Oz's open liking of Sharon. But, as that would contradict all of Break's previous actions and remarks, Oz thought a bit more and realized he was referring to Gil. He looked away.

"Take the word from a veteran, Oz."

"I…I know."

Break patted his head. "You may have your own reasons to hate what he said, but he has his own circumstances too which made him say those things. Gil's a very kind man at heart."

That resonated with Oz; what were Gil's circumstances? But before he could ask, or give a reply, Gil and Sharon had returned with the keys for their rooms.

The four walked up to their designated floor with Gil leading the way. Oz trailed behind the group, deep in thought, mentally conjuring up and scrapping all sorts of speeches and situations that might most guarantee favour and forgiveness from Gil. So deep in contemplation was Oz that he almost failed to notice that a mild dispute had arisen among the three before him.

"-you and Oz will share a room, and Sharon and I -"

"Now_, Gilly!_ Who made you boss?"

"But that's only logical! You get along best with him -"

"Ah, but that's Sharon."

"Dear Break, but I don't really mind where I slee-"

"No. She's _my_ beau, so we _shall _share a room. _You _and Oz will share a room; that'sonly logical, since he's_ your_ substitute partner."

Break snatched his key away before Gil, stuck on a dying comeback, could react. The white haired man swept a patiently waiting Sharon into his lanky arms, and with a flourish, waved the two goodnight and disappeared into his room.

The situation was awkward. The two stood looking at anywhere but at each other, shy, embarrassed, and more than a little bit annoyed. Since Gil was holding the key, he made the first move and opened the door. Oz supposed he should follow, and was surprised that Gil came to him, took his luggage from him, and held the door open for him. As he stepped through the door, Oz wondered: did Gil already forgive him? But they never made eye contact. Even if Gil did forgive him, however, Oz felt that it wasn't right to let it go without apologizing.

The door shut behind him. He and Gil were alone.

It was now or never.

_**Next Chapter's gonna be an emotionally tense moment between Oz and Gil…don't miss out! It will also probably be my favourite part of the story to write so far :D **_


	5. Ch 5: Bonds

CHAPTER 5

"Listen, I'm sorr -"

Both began and stopped at the same time. Both stole a look at one another, and, seeing the other catching his own action, looked away in embarrassment.

This was the epitome of awkward moments.

Oz, being younger and thus more impatient, thought about propriety and decided that he should apologize first, because he felt that he was more in the wrong. Gil was his elder, his senior, and as he probably knew much more about the world than Oz did, Oz had no right to insult or scorn Gil's opinions. He decided to seize the moment as quickly as possible, just in case Gil preempts his apology.

"Please listen. I'm - I'm really sorry. About last night, and today. I shouldn't have been so rude. You couldn't have known that I'd be insulted by your words, since I've never told you anything about my…my circumstances." Throughout his speech he looked straight into Gil's golden eyes to emphasize his sincerity, and a series of tender expressions flitted across the latter's face. For a moment, Oz felt that he _knew _Gil from somewhere in the past…

"You…you don't need to apologize." Gil looked at him, away from him, and at him again, his cheeks gaining a faint tint of colour. "I should have thought more about my words."

They stood beside each awkwardly for another few moments. Oz realized that they were still standing right before the doorway, with their luggage unpacked around them. To escape from the situation, he bent down to gather their suitcases and forced himself to laugh and make the atmosphere lighter. "Well, I guess that's that. I'm glad we sorted it out -"

"Oz."

The serious tone with which Gil spoke his name told him that the conversation was not yet over. Oz laid the suitcases back in their original positions, let his fake expression of cheeriness fall from his face, and turned around to meet the man. Gil was suddenly really close to him. His hand reached out for Oz's, but it hesitated and dropped back to Gil's side.

"I was wondering, will you tell me more about your…circumstances?"

The way that Gil looked at him was so tender, sad and sincere, an expression that, to Oz, seemed to hold the essence of a shining star - bright, distinct, and brimming with melancholy beauty - that Oz could not help but open up to him, to demolish all the barriers that he had set up against Gil. Those compassionate, golden irises sparked something deep within the subconscious of Oz, a precious memory locked in an obscure corner of the mind. The strange feeling of familiarity returned to Oz again, but this time, it was much more intense and tangible.

That nostalgia stripped of Oz all his remaining prejudices against the man. Oz felt, with a shock, that he wanted to tell Gil everything.

"My circumstances…my past," whispered Oz, slowly overcoming his burst of emotion.

"Yes."

"I…It's not a pleasant story."

"Please, I want to know."

Oz paused and looked away.

Gil stepped back. "I'm…I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Don't tell me if you don't want to -"

"No! No. I want to tell you."

Gil waited.

"You see…" Oz began slowly. "I had a friend. Her name was Alice. I lived in an orphanage called Fianna's House. That was where I first met her, and that was also where my memories began. My life until I left the place - which was about three days ago - wasn't particularly interesting." He laughed sadly. "We'd play in a small garden everyday, then we'd eat and sleep, and our matron was a really nice lady who tried her best to take care of us the best she could. Almost like a mother."

The golden eyes were penetrating. "You really can't remember anything before that?"

"No, but I really wish that I could." Oz smiled sadly at Gil. "I do remember though that my name was just two letters scribbled on my wrist when my matron found me on her doorstep."

Gil widened his eyes at that piece of information, but Oz just took it as a reaction to the weirdness of the origin of his name. Oz continued.

"You see Alice…Alice ate something bad, and four days ago when she and I were playing in the garden, the effects became serious, and she…"

Was it raining? But they were indoors. Oz trailed off, wondering at that sudden drop of wetness on the hem of his shirt, which suddenly turned in to two, then four, then eight. They seemed to come from nowhere, yet they seemed to come from right before his eyes.

He was crying.

Just as realization of a situation incites it further into substantiality, Oz's tears suddenly burst forth like water from a broken dam, and, try as he did to stop it, stuffing his palms into his eye sockets in desperation, he could not stop the flow. It was weird; he wasn't sobbing, he didn't even feel like he was crying, but the tears would not stop. It was completely out of his control. He cursed himself for looking like a ridiculous fool in front of Gil. Wasn't he already over the crying stage? Didn't he already stop mourning? Hadn't he already moved on?

Gil reached out for Oz's face, evidently to wipe away the latter's tears. Oz, however, did not see it coming, and flinched. Gil quickly took back his hand, looking embarrassed and pained.

"Do you…hate me?" asked Gil softly.

Oz shook his head quickly, eager to erase the misunderstanding. "No. No, that's not it. Sorry; I wasn't prepared." After a few more moments, he tried hard to clean his face, then made eye contact with Gil's gloomy eyes.

"No, I don't hate you, at all. It's really weird, how I feel around you. It's almost like I somehow know you. But I guess that's kinda weird, huh?" He forced himself to chuckle.

Gil hesitated, then put his arms around Oz and gave him a sympathetic squeeze. At this touching gesture, all the rest of Oz's sadness, which he had been unconsciously holding back, rushed through in the form of violent sobs. Gil held Oz tighter.

"I'm sorry, Oz. I'm sorry…"

"My best friend…my _only_ friend…and I didn't tell her…couldn't protect her! Why…_why_…"

"Oz...I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry…about _everything_…"

They stayed that way until Oz calmed down.

xxxxx

Since there was only a single double-sized bed in the room, Gil and Oz had to share it. After his breakdown Oz apologized profusely to which Gil reciprocated, repenting for his ignorance and his insulting remarks. They both felt good; Oz was relieved and happy to have reformed and strengthened the bond between Gil and himself, while a tint of crimson on the cheeks and a slight smile on the lips indicated a happy Gil. Together, they unpacked, washed, changed, got into bed, bade each other goodnight, and shortly afterwards, Oz fell asleep.

xxxxx

A broken toy box floated forlornly on a sea of dark, murky water. The water - if such inky liquid could be called water - was so opaque and black that nothing could be seen at all of what lay hidden beneath the ebony surface; but that was only because there was neither a sun nor a sky to illuminate its depths. If one could imagine that the normal blue sky was an enormous blue blanket, and if one could imagine a creature tearing the blanket apart, leaving nothingness in its place, then that is what the sky looked like in this place.

The toy box floated sluggishly across the sea. It passed by strange spherical objects, eyeless dolls, forgotten toys and other toy boxes that seemed to hang suspended in the air. Oz sat upon this box, absent-mindedly wondering where he was. He wasn't too concerned. There were much stranger things in the world.

He saw a girl in an oversized red cloak sitting upon the water a few meters before him. Another living being! This girl might be able to answer some of the questions he had. Paddling towards her - he noticed that after slipping his fingers in the water, they came up strangely dry - he called her out. She looked familiar.

"Excuse me!"

She didn't appear to have heard him. He tried again.

"Excuse me! Uh - I need some hel -"

His brain severed the air to his lungs when she turned around. This girl, with flowing black hair and two dark braids that seemed to snake around her body, was his first friend, his first family, his first love, his first precious person that he had failed to protect. How was she still alive? He stopped paddling.

"A…lice?"

Her face, expressionless at first, morphed into a joyous smile at the sight of him. "Oz!"

The toy box stopped right before her. He stepped down, somehow knowing that the dense, black water would hold his weight. A nervous tension saturated the air. Hesitantly - because he was so, so afraid to find out that she was just a spectre, just a ghost - he cupped his hands around her smooth, peach face. Gladness charged and overflowed his senses when his fingers discovered that she was warm - she was real, she was really _real_. Alice was right before him. Not cold. Not dead. Completely warm. Completely _alive_.

He couldn't speak. Perhaps her death and all that occurred after was simply a dream.

Suddenly, Oz was overwhelmed with a drive to tell her something he could not tell her before.

"Listen, I…"

"Yes?"

"I…_love you_."

There, he said it. He confessed. But…something didn't feel right. Oz had expected to feel some sort of cathartic feeling, some sort of a cleansing of the mental weight that had been eating him away the past few days. Rather, he felt embarrassed and more than a little…weirded out. He tried to ignore the feeling.

Alice was silently staring up at him with a softly blushing face and large, bright eyes that held an inscrutable expression. But whatever the expression was, it didn't seem like a happy one. More like shock and perplexity, as if she couldn't believe him saying that.

"Alice? What's wrong?"

At the sound of her name, her ambiguous expression turned into a definite one of resentment and anger, and she jerked her head away.

"Don't play with me!" With a savage push she had Oz flying a mile back from whence he came. What startled Oz wasn't her reaction, however; it was her _voice_. It wasn't the husky alto he had so loved, but the deep tenor of Gil.

What the heck?

She held that same sad and pained face that Gil often wore around Oz, and turned away in a huff. Oz watched with rising anxiety as she walked away from him into the darkness of the horizon; he had the feeling that she was never coming back. Never to see his precious person again…

"No! Wait! Please…tell me what's wrong!"

She continued to walk away. He tried to reach out for her, tried to touch her, but the water - the black liquid - began oozing around his ankles and violently prevented him from moving. Furious shaking could not free them, and Oz started to shudder and cry with desperation. He tried to call out to apologize for whatever he had done wrong, but his voice seemed to be blocked as well.

His vision began to fail, and the darkness that had only belonged to the sea now engulfed everything.

xxxxx

Sunlight streamed through the curtains and pried open Oz's eyes. The dream made him groggy, a little depressed, and he turned to the other side of the bed to tell and get consolation from Gil.

Nobody was there.

"Gil?" Oz sat up, looking around the small room. His eyes didn't have to search for long; he found the man sleeping in a twitchy ball scrunched up on a small armchair that was placed in darkest corner of the room. Barefoot, shivering, wearing only a thin sheet of material that was his night clothing, Gil looked more like a beaten servant than a great Pandora member. How and when on earth did he move himself from the bed to that corner? Oz clearly remembered that they had climbed into bed at the same time.

Oz climbed off the bed and quietly crept towards the man, careful not to awake him. The slow breathing and slight frown on the pale face told Oz that Gil was in fact still asleep - for a moment Gil actually looked really cute - and, out of a spontaneous desire to reciprocate Gil's kind gesture of last night, Oz pulled the blanket off the bed and tucked it around Gil.

What had made Gil change places? Oz hoped it wasn't because of him.

Once awake, Oz could not fall back asleep; that was just a strange trait he had since he was found by Fianna. That was why he never needed an alarm clock, why Fianna had only had to wake him up to wake the other children up, and why Alice never slept next to him.

"Go back to _sleep_," Alice had groaned one morning two sweet years ago when the sun had risen unusually early.

"But I can't."

"Then just close your eyes and stop humming."

"But I'm awake. I need to do something."

"Then get up and outta here. Some of us are still trying to sleep."

"But I don't wanna."

"_Please,_ _Oz_…"

He tossed and turned. At that time they had still shared a bed.

That was it. "Shut _up_!" Alice had then literally kicked him out of bed. "I will never sleep with you again!"

Oh man, good times. Oz chuckled, then felt a little lonely. The memory left him a tinge of sadness; if only he had listened to her, then he may have gotten more memories to keep his lonely mind company.

Alice.

She completely filled his thoughts at this moment. His memories of her preoccupied him so absolutely that he went about doing his daily morning tasks - dressing, washing, brushing - like a programmed robot. So far into the past was he that Oz didn't even notice Gil getting up. Only when Oz turned off the tap after he had finished brushing his teeth did he hear his partner awake and shuffling around in the room.

"Gil! You're up!" Oz shook his head to clear off Alice, and pranced into the bedroom to greet him. "Good morni…er…Gil?"

Gil didn't look so well. In fact, Gil looked really ill. Darks smudges the size of coins encircled his golden eyes, which were dimmer than usual, and the paleness of his face had reached a degree that made Oz seriously wonder how such a colour could belong to a living human being. At the sight of Oz Gil flinched and turned a medically alarming shade of red.

"Gil? You okay?"

"I'm - I'm - I'm fine." He turned away, evidently trying to avoiding eye contact.

"What's wrong? Why'd you move last night?"

"It's nothing."

"No. I know there's something wrong. Just tell me! I might be able to hel -"

"_No!_"

Oz started. Gil realized that his tone might have been a little too harsh, and tried to soften the effects. "I mean…you can't help. Er, I mean you won't be able to. I'm not saying - just - never mind - "

"It's okay, it's okay! I understand." Oz returned to the bathroom with his head down. He was hurt. He thought Gil and he had made up last night. Why did he now have such a mean attitude? What had Oz said? Try as he might, Oz could not remember what he had said nor done that could possibly elicit such irritation.

_**Hello! Thank you for reading this far into the story! I hope that you like my story…especially the moments between Oz and Gil. This was the most emotionally tense chapter to write so far.**_

_**Um. Do you get why Gil acted this way against Oz? If you do, great! If you don't, or if there's anything else you don't understand or object to, tell me (via email, review, etc.) and I'll reply ASAP…which means I need to do a better job…**_

_**Thank you again for reading!**_


	6. Ch 6: Bloody Mission

CHAPTER 6

Break and Sharon looked as strange and polar as ever outside their door. "Hullo! And _good morning_. Oz! How was your night?"

"Not bad."

"And Gilly?"

"Mm."

Break, mildly baffled by their lack of emotion, studied each melancholy face with an amused expression. "You two don't seem particularly energetic. Did something _happen_ last night?"

"Not that I know of," replied Oz. He looked at Gil, who suddenly blushed. Again.

Oz shook his head. Every single time he talked to Gil, looked at Gil, or merely approached Gil, the latter's blood converged in his face, as if to a party. Oz tried to pry the problem out of him, but no matter how hard or how many different tactics he tried, Gil simply would not open up. It was frustrating. Oz had thought they'd finally made up and could start a new relationship as good friends; he had even told Gil all about his depressing past, but Gil wouldn't return the favour.

_Geez_. So much for friendship.

"Well," said Oz, stepping away from Gil, "let's go eat. I'm starving."

"Yes, let's," agreed Sharon.

They walked down the stairs they had come up the night before and found their way to the inn's cafeteria. There was the usual morning buffet one would normally find in such an inn: toast, cereal, apples, eggs, all presented to be self-served. After choosing their breakfast separately, they found a table for four and sat to eat.

"So Oz." Break picked up an apple and sunk in his teeth.

"Yeah?'

"Guesh itsh tine fur ush choo tchell you abour -"

"Break. Chew or talk," said Gil.

Break swallowed. "Well, I suppose it's time for us to tell you about the mission."

"Really?"

"Of course, Oz. You'd be a _burden _if you didn't know more about it."

"Oh. Thanks."

Break grinned. "There's a family of _chains_ in a town two-hours away from here. We're supposed to go and analyze the situation, capture alive any chains only just transforming and kill the rest."

Oz gulped. "Kill?"

"Didn't I _tell_ you our job was dirty?"

Suddenly, the food, which had tasted bland before, became completely inedible. Everything seemed mushy and cold, like the carcass of a corpse. Oz stared at his food, grimaced and pushed his plate away. If only he had known this before. He would never have agreed to participate in this mission had he known about the details of it.

"Oz, you should eat," said Gil quietly.

"I'm not hungry anymore."

"Gil's right, Oz," purred Sharon. "The mission's going to be tough."

"Well, you don't expect me to be able to eat after you've told me _that_, right?" He forced himself to chuckle. "Especially a newbie like me."

"And _that's_ why I didn't tell you until now," commented Break.

Oz groaned.

xxxxx

The ride took around two-hours. There was relatively little conversation; everyone seemed meek about it, each dwelling on the possibilities of injuries, failures and even of death. Even Sharon, who usually smiled, looked grim. Oz was really worried about the atmosphere they evinced, because if they, experts in missions like this, did not look positively on the event, Oz had some morbid ideas about how he, an amateur, would fare. More and more now Oz regretted his decision.

During the ride Break had told him that the family of chains consisted of five members: a father, a mother, a son, a daughter and an infant less than a year old. They had all somehow gotten their hands on the drug and eaten it; Oz was slightly disturbed that any parent would feed an infant of less than a year old hard candy, which was how the drug usually appeared. Their neighbors had first detected their insanity when the father murdered a man with his bare nails. They had shortly afterwards contacted the police, who, recognizing this as the work of the Abyss, in turn contacted Pandora Headquarters. Zai had dispatched the team the very day after he had received the message.

When the carriage arrived at the house - a beaten down cottage with caution signs posted all around its vicinity - the sky began drizzling. Gil handed Oz a knife and a pistol, and the four headed into the house.

Quietly, quietly, they creeped about, trying to be as soundless as possible to keep the element of surprise on their side. Break decided that the mission would be more successful were they to split up and search for the family separately because then they would be able to search for more places simultaneously. If any problem arose, or if any help was required, they were to shoot twice.

With all this decided, the four diverged.

Oz chose the nearest room on his left to explore. The rotted wooden floor creaked as he stepped through the threshold and cobwebs of all thicknesses fell upon his head like snow settling upon a treetop. The room he was in now looked like the infant's room: a small crib, missing a few legs - Oz shuddered as he realized the legs seemed to have been _gnawed off_ by a set of small, sharp teeth - rocked on one side of the room; deformed toys scattered the floor; and the walls had been painted a light blue colour. A small lump of cloth lay on the floor next to the crib.

The room seemed quite empty. With another sweep to make sure his eyes didn't miss anything, and with nothing to catch his eyes that they didn't catch before, Oz turned around to leave.

He was halfway through the entrance when a small - but audible - gargling noise stopped him in his tracks. It sounded like a rodent, but with a much more demented tone. Oz turned around. The noise was coming from the cloth. Was there a cat trapped underneath? Well, thought Oz, if it was only a cat, he'd better free it.

But it wasn't a cat.

It was the infant.

Oz had only ever seen a chain once, and so he thought that he had more or less a clear idea of a chain's appearance. He was wrong. The chain he was dealing with now must have taken in a much more sophisticated version of the drug than the pink candy he kept in his shirt. The infant was not the mutated version of a hairy beast that Alice had become, but an elongated version of a human baby. In a way, this chain looked much more frightening than the Alice-chain. There was a hunger and madness in its black eyes that had not been present in Alice's. It crept closer, drooling and groaning, towards Oz, while the boy could do nothing but stare in frozen fear, his nerves completely shut down…

"OZ!"

The call jolted some adrenaline into Oz's frozen bloodstream. He blinked just in time to witness the chain flying towards him, its claws drawn, its jaw abnormally wide, its fangs glinting…

_Bang!_

The thing was slammed sideways into the wall by some invisible force. Oz looked around to see the source, and saw Gil, pale from exertion and anxiety, running into the room with a smoking pistol in his right hand.

"G-Gil?"

Gil grabs Oz and shook him furiously. His face gleamed with sweat and was contorted in an expression of frightening rage.

"You idiot! Why didn't you move? Why didn't you _move_?"

"I-I-"

"No! No! You don't -! Why can't you -! You-! Augh!" Gil released his grip and vented his mysterious anger out at the wall beside them, punching with all his might. It left a considerable hole.

"B-but this is my first time…" Oz protested quietly.

Gil grinded his teeth and began a pattern of slow, steady breathing, to calm his ridiculously sensitive temper down. This continued for about two minutes, and the silence that was concomitant became increasingly heavier on Oz's already guilty conscience. It got so that Oz couldn't bear it any longer.

"Gil?"

Gil kept his eyes averted.

"Gil? I don't understand…"

"Oz."

Oz waited.  
>"Oz…" Slowly and unsteadily, Gil turned around to look at him, his bright, golden eyes saturated with the emotion of pain and weariness, and, just as slowly, extended his gloved hand towards Oz's cheek. The touch was cold, but comfortable. Oz leaned into it. Gil stepped closer and put his other hand upon Oz's face, cupping the small head in his large strong palms. For some reason Oz's breath was taken away by this gesture, and the liquid golden irises - those imploring eyes - touched his heart like none had ever touched before.<p>

"Please." Gil leaned closer. He looked about to cry. "Please, stop making me worry."

"Gil?"

All of a sudden the wall above them exploded and through the rugged opening stepped - flew - the son and daughter chains of the family.

They scrambled back, Gil holding out a protective hand in front of Oz. "Stay back! Stay back!"

Oz glanced around for an exit, but to his horror, they were trapped. The entrance was blocked by the rubble that fell from the ceiling due to the commotion; there were no windows; and the hole through which the chains came was too high above their heads to reach, much less climb through.

The only way to resolve the situation was to defeat the chains. Oz, now that he had already faced two chains, was more prepared to react to these two. He put his hand on his pistol and glanced at Gil for the next move. Gil turned to him as well.

Unfortunately, the chains seized this moment to attack. The male chain cackled with hunger and lunged at Gil with such force that the two became a blurred ball of arms and legs and flew through the wall behind them. With Gil now out of sight, fighting loudly somewhere behind the wall, the female chain turned, grinning hungrily, to Oz. She advanced, and Oz took out with a quivering hand his pistol and pointed the weapon at her.

Suddenly she leaped forward and, with a painful bang, she had him pinned to the floor with her sharp claws. Her nails dug into his fabric and his skin, and Oz could sharply feel the crimson liquid of life seeping out of the cuts. Her yellow saliva dripped out of her black mouth and sizzled dangerously on his shirt. With all his might he tried pushing her away, while he aimed his pistol at her head, but as he looked at her face, her small round face, lithe body and ebony hair attracted an enormous wave of déjà vu. She leaned down, closer and closer, her fangs nearly touching his bare neck, but, even though his life was in danger, he couldn't pull the trigger - she was too much like _her _- he just _couldn't_…

Well. What happens when you don't defend yourself? You get bit.

As her teeth sunk into his warm flesh, the pain made him scream, made his eyes water. Somewhere in the distance he heard a faint call of his name, but he didn't really hear; the sharpness, irritation and magnitude of the pain kicked his brain into survival mode, and his sentimental self became shoved into the background. Without really thinking, he pulled the trigger.

A scream, a spray of blood, then she fell over, limp. Oz removed himself from her weight, slowly letting his conscious self resurface. The back profile of the girl, who faced the floor, looked so much like Alice that for a second Oz really believed that it was she who he had just killed.

"Oz! Oz, are you…" Gil burst through the rubble from the entrance, breathless and anxious. Sharon and Break came through followed, both slightly bloodied, but still alive.

Oz barely noticed them. He only saw with blank eyes. He looked back at the corpse sprawled over his legs, and began trembling with fright. What if this was Alice? What if this was Alice? The thought replayed over and over in his head like a broken record.

Gil ran over to the shocked boy and placed his hands around his shoulder. At the touch, Oz jumped back. Eyes still trained on the dead girl, Oz stumbled backwards, as if afraid of yet mesmerized by it.

"Oz?"

Alice…Alice was dead…

"Oz? What's wrong?"

Alice was dead…and _he_ had killed her…

"Oz, please…"

He had killed his own…

"_Shut up!_" Oz clamped his hands over his ears. But that voice continued to shame him, to accuse him, to curse him. He had to get free, and so he ran out of the room, the house, and into the storm outside, hoping that the rain would wash away his pain.

_**Thank you to all readers who have endured this story so far! Your time here means so much to a noob like me. I hope I can continue this story with as much support as I have gotten XD I want to thank **_eXtraNlo _** especially **_kilohoku92: _**you have no idea how much your constant reviewing and encouragement helps me write! :)**_

_**I kinda realize that Oz is turning out more melodramatic and depressing than how I imagined he'd be in this story…T_T but I guess he IS kinda emo in the real story anyways, huh?**_


	7. Ch 7: New Light

CHAPTER 7

The rain felt cool on his skin. The tears of the sky trickled down his face and mingled anonymously with the tears that seeped out of his eyes. He was wet and cold, but that was okay; it eased his mind of the turmoil. As the rain flowed down his body, he thought to himself: _I have to get over her._

He realized himself that his attachment to her was becoming a burden, a weight that prevented him from moving forward. This was intensified by the fact that she had been his first, his dearest and closest friend. He didn't know how to let things go, because he never had to. What was he supposed to do? His life had been too sheltered, having experienced only the limited world that was Fianna's Orphanage.

_How do you let go?_

He closed his eyes in frustration. If only he had _told _her…

"Oz?"

A soft, tender whisper brought him out of the murky waters of depression. Oz raised his eyes; it was Gil stepping out of the door, his pale face pale and open with concern, the expression of which brought a bit of much needed warmth and another related, yet ineffable, sensation to Oz's heart. It felt really good, though, like a cup of hot soup on a cold day. But he couldn't tell what it was made of, much less its name. His inability to identify the emotion brought a frown to Oz's face, and he turned away from Gil quickly to prevent misunderstanding.

Gil knelt before Oz and took Oz's cold hand into his own warmer ones. Then the man laid his left hand gently against Oz's chin and brought it upwards to meet his eyes.

"Oz. Please." The golden light of Gil's eyes penetrated Oz's. "Tell me what's wrong."

The worry in Gil's face overpowered Oz. He wanted badly to erase it. So Oz smiled and replied, "No, it's nothing." He chuckled; he hoped the sound was genuine enough, but he knew it was pathetically transparent. "I just had a spasm of the moment. I've never killed someone before so - "

All of a sudden Gil put both hands on Oz's face and pulled it towards his own, pressing so fiercely it almost hurt. The expression on Gil's face wasn't concern now; flashes of fury and pain saturated those golden spheres. "Do you know," whispered Gil, "how fake your words are? Don't you know how - how _painful _they are to the people who care about you?"

Gil's face was becoming drenched with the rain as well, and the way the droplets trickled out of his ebony hair down his smooth, pale cheeks, it made Gil appear as if he was crying, which was emphasized by the pain in his bright eyes.

"I - I'm sorry," Oz whispered.

Gil closed his eyes. "Tell me the truth about how you feel. I want to help you, Oz. I…I don't…want to lose you again…"

"Lose me?"

He turned away, mysteriously embarrassed. "Ah, forget I said that. But tell me…" Gil looked back again. "What happened back there?"

"The moment was…"

"Was?"

"My friend, Alice…"

Gil winced at the name, but waited for him to continue. Oz noticed but didn't think much of it.

"A few days ago, what Alice ate was the Abyss. I was there; I saw the whole transformation. This happened because…because I neglected to tell her not to eat something strange that she just found. And the girl back there reminded me so much of her, that…that I just got…scared."

Gil was listening with a furrow in his brow. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"I didn't feel it was necessary."

"What else haven't you told me?"

"What else do you want to know?"

"Is there anything you think I should know?"

Oz thought for a moment. Should he reveal the fact that he was in possession of a sample of the Abyss, inside his shirt? Well, Gil worked for Pandora and had seen and killed many a chain, and probably many samples of the drug as well, so perhaps showing him the Abyss he had wasn't so important. So Oz shook his head. "I don't think so, no."

Gil scrutinized him, and Oz felt uneasy at the attention. Those bright yellow eyes made his blood flow erratically and rush to his cheeks in a larger quantity than usual. Irritated and surprised at his body and the strange turmoil that a stare from this man could incite, Oz turned away, frowning. "W-what?" He grumbled.

"Ah, sorry," apologized Gil. After another moment of silence, Gil patted Oz's head with a large, steady hand and gently rubbed Oz's head. "I lost a friend, a good friend as well, in my past. I know how you feel. The pain is unbearable, isn't it, especially if the death is somehow your fault. But Oz, you have to remember," Gil said solemnly, "the dead exists only in the past. It's fine to remember and mourn them, but you will be blinded if you are unwilling to let them go. Face forward, Oz. Create new memories to add to your collection. Find that new light to guide you into your future. That way, you can live happy here - " he points to Oz's forehead "and here -" and he points to Oz's heart. The man stood up and offered a hand to Oz. A warm, sympathetic smile appeared on his face. "Come on, Oz, let's go."

His words were like an elixir; warmth and brightness coursed through Oz's body and a weight seemed to disappear from his chest which he had never noticed had been there. Oz took Gil's hand, extremely gratified for the support. "Thank you, Gil," he said, smiling.

Gil's eyes widened. Confused, Oz asked, "What is it?"

The man shook his head with a slight chuckle and a genuine expression of joy. "It's just that…"

"What is it?"

Bright golden eyes fixed themselves directly at Oz. "It's just…this is the first time I saw your real smile. It's good," said Gil quietly.

Oz didn't quite understand, but Gil seemed happy, so he supposed everything was okay with his friend.

A slight breeze caressed them; the sky had cleared and rays of light were permeating through lightening clouds. The sun was appearing just above Gil's head from Oz's point of view, so it looked as if Gil's body was wrapped in light. A long-forgotten memory of happiness tickled his consciousness, and for a moment he remembered playing with those large hands, which seemed even larger in his memory.

"Do I know you…?" Oz half-said to himself.

"Pardon?"

"Oh, uh…nothing."

"Let's go. I don't want you to catch a cold. And Break and Sharon are waiting."

"Okay."

Gil took Oz's hand and led him towards the entrance of the broken house. The hand was warm and comfortable, steady and large, leading him forward.

_Gil, you are my new light._

xxxxx

"What took you two so _long_? And so drenched."

"Sorry Break, Sharon."

"Shut it, Break."

"My, so _mean_!"

"Well," said Gil, ignoring Break. "Our work's done here, so let's head back and report."

"That's…all to this mission? That's all we do? Kill the chains?"

"What did you expect, Oz dear?" asked Sharon.

"Er…" Oz thought it was strange how brief the mission was. From what he knew about the mission so far, it seemed that their only job was to kill, which was much too simple and crude for people as high up in status in the Pandora organization as they. "Don't you have to clean the corpses up so people won't come in and stumble on them? And shouldn't you search the house in case they kept any more of the Abyss?"

Break began to laugh. "No, we don't do that, thankfully. Pandora gives the certain job of cleaning up the killings to other people in the organization. They'll be here right after we leave. As for the drugs..." A chilly grin sprawled across his face. "The way the distributors of the Abyss work is this way: they only give one drop of the Abyss to a potential user, and _one drop only_, not more. The Abyss isn't a _continuous drug_ - a drug that leaves you addicted for more - it's, as you know, a one-time use. There is never any extra lying about the chains. In other words, somehow, a user _only ever _gets _one _sample of the Abyss."

"You mean you know for sure there isn't any Abyss in the house?"

"Yes."

"But…" Then why had there been an entire bag of it on the ground beside Alice's body? Who was this distributor? It couldn't have been an accidental drop; after all this time that Pandora hunted for chains, they didn't find the Abyss, so the distributor couldn't have made that mistake all of a sudden. Wait. Then it meant -

"Do you guys even know what the Abyss looks like?"

"In truth? No."

"No…" echoed Oz. Numbly, he put his hand inside his shirt and drew out the transparent bag of sparkly pink candy with the label _Pandora._

"Oooh, what's that? It looks verrry pretty," cooed Sharon, her eyes sparkling along with the candy.

"It's…the Abyss."

A shocked silence filled the room. The three Pandora members looked at the bag as if it had wings. Break was the first to overcome the spell and he approached Oz with a grave face, asking him, "How did you come by this?"

"My friend found this bag and ate one of it…" Oz looked at Gil for support.

Gil also came to his senses at Oz's silent appeal. He returned Oz's look with a rather frustrated and pained one, slapping his forehead in an ostensible act of irritation. "_This_ is what I meant when I asked you not to hide anymore secrets from me." Whoops. He wanted to know?

"Secret? What other secrets?" asked Break, a little annoyed for having been in the dark.

"You see…" Then, to Oz's relief, Gil told Break Oz's history, in brief words so as not to call back to Oz painful memories, and quickly so as not to make necessary any words from Oz. After the retelling was over, Break's eyes adopted a distant look, his mind evidently somewhere far away digesting and contemplating the information. As Oz watched, the thoughtful expression slowly turned into one of understanding and surprise, and a little bit of a cunning and fox-like twist appeared in it as well.

"What is it?"

Breaks' red eyes gleamed enigmatically as they turned to Oz. They seemed to hold secrets that would not be imparted without a price, an impenetrable wall of blood of too many experiences and memories to count. They held information that, Oz somehow felt, would not be revealed, no matter how much effort one puts in. Their coldness sent shivers down Oz's spine. For the first time he had the feeling that this man's true nature differed infinitely from the lackadaisical, playful idiot usually portrayed.

"_Int_eresting." That was all that Break said.

Oz felt the path of this conversation cut by the lack of answer the man's reply contained. Even though a boiling curiosity was rising inside of him, Oz obeyed the silent command and turned to Gil and Sharon, who continued to stare at the Abyss bag, to begin another topic.

"We had better bring this in with our report," muttered Gil.

"Zai would_ love _this." Break grinned.

"Would he?"

"But now I'm wondering…why he has _never_ mentioned any sort of interest in the _actual drug_, only the users themselves."

"Could it be because he knows we can't ever find any, from you said earlier?" suggested Oz.

Break looked thoughtful. "No, I don't think that's the case. Because you have obviously proved it isn't true. I wonder if he's hiding something. Well," he added with a chuckle, "I never liked that man. There was always this strange atmosphere around him, like a _dark cloud_…"

"Break dear. You're rambling again."

"Oh, my apologies. Ah, well, we should head back, as our mission is done."

As they headed out, Oz dawdled behind and tapped Gil to walk with him. The man obeyed.

"Er…how does this reporting work? To Zai, I mean?"  
>"Reporting? Basically, all the team members -"<p>

"All? Why all?"

"Because Zai's the kind of man who wants to know who's working for him," answered Gil. "We tell him briefly what happened during the mission, the outcome, and anything new that happened. It's really simple. It's to tie up this mission and keep him updated."

"Oh. What's he like?"

"Zai? A tall man, kind of blunt, harsh, but despite his personality he'll make sure to look after you well, if you hold some sort of positive connection to him. He's quite careful about his reputation, you see. But as Break said, he doesn't seem like a person you can trust easily." He had a sad expression as he talked about Zai, and Oz wondered, but was afraid to ask, why Gil wore such a face.

They had arrived at the road, where a carriage was waiting. Break and Sharon were talking to the driver, and Oz and Gil jogged up to see what was happening. Oz reached them first, and asked Sharon, "Is anything wrong?"

She smiled reassuringly, and Oz blushed at her cuteness. Gil coughed. "Oh, no, don't worry. It seems that Pandora couldn't send a carriage for four, but two carriages for two. We'll be arriving at headquarters at different times."

"That's no problem, right?"

"_Far_ from it, Ozzy," said Break, turning around, having finished his conversation with the driver. "It's simply a little inconvenient to arrive at different times; our reporting will just have to be delayed a little. Well then," he said, sweeping Sharon into his arms, "My Sharon and I shall go first. You and Gil will take the other carriage, which will be arriving soon. Farewell, and have a happy trip." They climbed into the car before their other two members could utter a word, and in a blink the carriage became a speck of dust in the horizon.

Gil and Oz looked at each other.

Oz sighed. "It seems that Break is always trying to leave us together."

"Why? Do you not like it?" Gil looked a little upset.

"Oh no! No! That's not it," said Oz quickly, shocked at the misunderstanding. "I'm just wondering…" Oz had tried to eradicate from his mind the possibility that somehow Break's constant attempts to bring them together alone had something to do with Oz's nostalgia about Gil, that somehow Break knew something about him and Gil. Oz felt almost sure that he knew Gil sometime in his past, but he couldn't acquire a firm grasp on when and where. This feeling of nostalgia kept flitting around his mind like an intangible shadow. "It's just that I keep feeling like I know you, but then as soon as I try to catch that feeling, it disappears."

Suddenly, a vivid expression of anticipation and fear flashed across Gil's pale face, and his golden eyes sparkled in the sunlight as they widened. "Do you…remember something?"

Oz stared in shock. "So I _do_ know you?"

"Well…" Gil was about to say something, but a clattering in the distance stopped him short as they both looked towards the noise. They saw that their carriage had arrived, and in that moment of relief the topic was forgotten as they climbed into the car.

_**Well, that's chapter 7! Phew! I'm so proud to have continued so far. In the past I've begun a lot of stories but I never had the endurance to finish them. I hope I can with this one.  
><strong>_

_**I also began **_**07 Ghost**_**. Dammmm soo good! I really really really recommend it to ANYONE who LOVES Pandora Hearts as much as I do, because the storyline, character relationships are pretty similar. The drawing is also extraordinary.**_

_**Also, thanks so much again for the reviews! I can't tell you how much they warm me. Oh, and as for blahblahturtle's question...it's gonna be answered in the next chapter (well, I'm going to try to anyways XD)**_


	8. Ch 8: Tender Moments and Mysteries

CHAPTER 8

The carriage clattered down the wet gravel road, which was beginning to dry from the heat of the emerging sun. The bucolic landscape rolled past the window like a never ending film, the green and the blue blending into one another like a hypnotic blur, the sporadic white dots that were houses rushing past like shooting stars. The setting as a whole was serene and gave the mind a refreshing sense of calm.

Inside the carriage, because it was made to hold only two people, the seats were placed adjacently so that Oz and Gil sat right next to one another. The coziness of the place and the silence in the air would have been fine for Oz if he were alone, but because he was not, he forced himself to make small talk.

"How long is it to Pandora?"

"About ten hours."

"Non-stop?"

"Well, it won't be like the trip we took to come here. We won't be having a stop for the night, except for meals and breaks in between. We'll probably be arriving at eleven at night."

"That's pretty late."

"Yeah."

"So uh…" Oz racked his head for a conversational topic. He wanted to know more about this taciturn man whose presence gave him such a warm, tender feeling, not to mention the intense nostalgia that some of Gil's actions evoked. "How long have you had this job?"

"Ever since Mr. Nightray adopted me into his family."

"You're adopted?" Oz looked at him in surprise.

"Yeah. He said he found me wandering around homeless on the streets, and took pity. He's kind of…" A gentle look of remembrance washed over Gil's face and gave a tender dull to his yellow eyes. "…like a father to me. I think you would know that feeling, of finding someone to hang on to when you've been alone all your life." Gil smiled knowingly at Oz and patted his head.

Oz looked down, drowning in a pleasant sea of past memories, smiling slightly at the overwhelming feeling. "Yeah I know that feeling." Mr. Nightray to Gil was like Alice to Oz. "Alice was like that for me."

The hand on his head tightened suddenly, as if undergoing a spasm and Oz looked up in both surprise and pain. "What is it?" he asked, flinching.

Gil removed his hand from Oz's head and brought it up to cover his eyes, looking agitated and annoyed. "Ugh, sorry," he apologized, and didn't continue to explain the sudden movement. Oz waited for one in vain, looking confusedly at Gil. The clattering of the carriage wheels on the gravel road filled in the silence that had settled over the two.

Finally, the man, sensing the curiosity of Oz, looked up. As soon as their eyes met Gil looked away again, seeming mysteriously embarrassed and shy as a slow creeping of crimson spread across his cheeks. "I - well - I kind of - was wondering…"

"Yeah?"

"What…is this Alice to you?"

"She was my first friend. I told you. Why?"

"Because last night…"

"Last night?"

There was no reply. Gil didn't seem to want to continue. As Oz waited, another question slipped into his mind, a question that he had asked Gil the night before and still hadn't received an answer to.

"Speaking of last night…why did you move?"

"Move? Where?" Gil seemed to have forgotten.

"You know, last night? I remember us getting into bed at the same time, but in the morning, when I woke up, I found you sleeping on the coach, and very uncomfortably too." Oz was incredibly curious; did he have bad habits when he slept? "Why did you move?"

"Oh. _Oh_. Er, that…"

"Go on."

"Well…do you remember what were you dreaming about?"

"I was…" Oz tried to recall; he had never given particular attention to his dreams or bothered exerting effort to remember them, since he was hardly superstitious, and dreams didn't fit anywhere in his down-to-earth views of life. "I think I was dreaming about Alice…I met her, and then…"

Gil looked at him nervously, expectantly. "Y-you don't have to remember if you can't."

What was it that made him so nervous? Oz quietly wondered at his partner's agitation, and tried harder to recall the dream, in the way that human minds naturally do in the theory of reverse psychology. He dreamt that he had met Alice, and then…and then…and then what? There was a sea of black water, with weird objects suspended around the air. Oz remembered feeling a bright burst of happiness when he had met her, and then - oh! He had cupped her cheeks, confessed to her…

Wait.

_ Cupped her cheeks?_

_ Confessed?_

Suddenly, his dream, his memories and Gil's reaction all added up, and a bucket of that slimy feeling of embarrassment oozed through his body. No wonder Alice felt warm. No wonder her voice sounded like his. No wonder she flung him away.

Because everything he had done to her in the dream, he had, in reality, done to him.

"Ack! I'm so sorry!" A violent rush of blood coursed through his cheeks. He flailed his arms wildly. "I didn't know - I'm sorry - this is so embarrassing - forgive, me, I - "

Large warm hands embraced his shoulders, in turn stopping his flux of speech. "Oz, stop." His lips had a slight quirk at the edges. "It's fine, it's fine. Well, you know why now I had to sleep somewhere else. I…couldn't handle it." He blushed.

Oz looked away and apologized again.

"Do you…love her?" Gil spoke again; his bright yellow irises were penetrating and sullen.

Love? A few days ago, Oz thought he did. Now he wasn't so sure. What was love, anyways? People had defined it as a strong, warm feeling that filled the pit of the stomach and created smiles, an emotion that couldn't really be explained to those who hadn't yet experienced it, a sensation that was felt most intensely around the person who was the cause of it. Oz didn't understand that definition, and only based his perception around the part that he understood: that love was a strong, nice feeling. He reflected upon to whom his emotions reacted most violently and happily, and for some reason, he felt that Alice was not the one. She only evoked a relatively mild tendril of warmth in his chest compared to all the emotions he felt since he had come to Pandora, and it was weakening with every passing moment. Oz also felt that he_ has _experienced "love" before, but he couldn't put a name on the person who incited it.

As Oz mulled over the definition of love and his position in it, Gil looked at Oz expectantly and waited patiently for an answer. The brightness of the pair of eyes slowly lured Oz out of the vortex of contemplation, and Oz, realizing that he could neither deny nor agree to Gil's question, changed the topic.

"Well, do _you_ have someone you love?"

A rush of red, deeper in shade and intensity than ever before, darkened his cheeks. Gil averted his eyes in a twitchy motion which fully expressed that, indeed, he did. "N-no, I don't. W-why?"

Oz grinned at the reaction. "Ohoho…who is it?"

"N-none of your business."

"Tell me."

"I d-don't have one."

Oz laughed and giggled at the blatancy of that lie. "After acting like that, you think you can get away? I don't think so. Come one, I'm getting it out of you. Who is it? Wait, I think I can guess."

Gil looked up, startled and afraid. "Who?"

The boy tried to wear an expression of cunning. "Sharon."

"You…think I like Sharon?"

"You don't?"

A button on Gil's black cloak came loose, and for the moment Gil became much preoccupied with fixing the little thing, although his yellow eyes, narrowed in a look of fake concentration, conveyed differently what the man was truly thinking about and feeling. His lips, pursed tightly, made him look quite agitated.

Oz grinded his teeth in frustration. It seemed that this man, his partner, was determined to shut him out and refuse to connect to the bond of friendship that Oz had been continually offering. He sighed. But perhaps some people were simply like that; hard to talk to, hard to bond with, but not deliberately so. So to offset the awkward situation they had landed themselves in, Oz turned to gaze out the window and stated, "Gil. I really wish you'd talk to me, but…if this is a hard subject for you, I won't push. So just forget I said anything."

Gil didn't answer, and Oz didn't turn around to see if his message elicited any reaction. He continued staring at the streak of blue and green that flew hypnotically past the window, and after a while, the patterns lulled his eyelids down and Oz fell into a comfortable nap.

xxxxx

The rest of the day passed in a relatively insignificant haze: they stopped here and there for meals, for breaks when their bottoms just couldn't handle the vibrations any longer, and small conversations occurred sporadically throughout the entire trip. By the time they arrived at Pandora Headquarters, the sun had made an entire trip across the blue ocean above and had long sunk beneath its green blanket of the horizon. Once they arrived, Gil helped Oz with his luggage, escorted him to Uncle Oscar's cabin. After they decided on a place to meet Break and Sharon next morning to report to Zai - at the mansion's entrance, they bade each other goodnight and each retired to their bedchambers.

Oz laid in his temporary bed in Uncle Oscar's shed - the jolly old man hadn't yet found a decent permanent place for the new servant to settle in. Staring up at the stippled ceiling, Oz heaved a large sigh. He was wide, wide awake. His mind was churning thought after thought nonstop, trying to digest what he had learned so far, who he had met and when he should leave. Oz realized he had never given thought to what he would do after he avenged Alice. And, speaking of which, does he even really want to avenge her anymore? Would she really want that? Was this something he had decided to do just to appease and mollify his own anger at himself, to be able to forgive himself?

What would he gain from going through with his plan-less revenge? Nothing; only perhaps a change in mentality, and Oz couldn't even say for the better or the worse. Would he really be happy after everything? Or would he feel…guilt?

"Gaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!"

In a momentary spike of frustration, he threw away his covers and got up from bed. This - tonight's insomnia - was all because of that nap he took in the morning. To wash away his sleeplessness, Oz decided to go for a walk around the building and calm his mind.

Outside, the cold wind bit his cheeks and shocked him a bit out of the murky pit of mental discomfort. He looked around Pandora; in the darkness, without any human beings milling around, the place looked alien and so still - like a painting - it was almost frightening. As if an entity of darkness was saturating the air.

Oz shivered and shook his head to subdue his imagination. As he kept walking, aiming for nowhere in particular, a flash of white caught the periphery of his eye, and instinctively he turned towards it. It was faint, and it was moving slowing in the bushes, like a spectre.

Curious, Oz crept towards the thing. He kept as quiet and moved as slowly as possible so as not to startle away what was keeping his interest in captivity. The white speck began taking shape as he closed the space between them, and soon, he made it out as the figure of a young girl, who, upon even closer examination, was the girl he had briefly encountered in what he considered was a bizarre dream - the dream where he met the Alice-lookalike.

A small yelp of surprise escaped his throat. Angry at himself for such lack of control of his own body, Oz scrambled to the ground behind a patch of particularly thick bushes, and peeped through a small opening between the leaves to see if the noise had elicited any reaction from her.

It didn't. She continued walking slowly like before. Oz exhaled heavily from relief and continued to examine her. He knew this was not a dream; to have repetitive dreams with the same elements - let alone the same people he had never before met - was a rarity, and in his case it almost certainly indicated that this occasion was not a dream. Besides, the cold, slimy feeling of grass and the rank aroma of soil was uncomfortable enough to tell him he was not in bed.

The girl began to talk. Her voice was very soft, muffled, like a bird's, and she appeared to be talking to someone. Oz searched around to see if there was another person in the vicinity - and sure enough, he saw someone walking behind her: a tall man with extraordinarily long blonde hair, twisted into a neat long braid, which glinted bluntly in the dim moonlight. His face Oz couldn't quite make out; it wasn't as pale as the girl's, so it wasn't quite as clear, but it was visible enough that Oz could tell something about it rang a bell of familiarity. More curious than ever, Oz strained his ears to hear their conversation, but unfortunately, right at that moment, a rather fat speck of dust floated into Oz's nostril, and before he received the message his brain sent regarding the intruder, he sneezed.

The sneeze was a TNT explosion for ears accustomed to the silence of the night.

His sight temporarily gone, having squeezed his eyes slightly harder than necessary, Oz had to wait for a couple of seconds before finding again the peephole he had used to spy on the two. When his sight returned, Oz saw that the two were gone. In vain, he looked around, but there was no one around, as if that man and that girl were simply hallucinations, vanished into thin air.

As Oz stood there wondering what on earth was going on, a heavy hand tapped his shoulder.

_**Gosh this chapter took much longer than I expected (yeesh). Partly because June is hell of people like me, and also because I think I'm losing a bit of interest in this story…O.O'' which I hope I will recover soon. **_

_**That aside, there will be secrets unfolded next chapter for all you wonderful readers…well, quasi-secrets. Actually, they might leave more questions than they might answer…**_

_**Oh wells! Regardless, I wish with all my heart that this story has continued to be worthy to read. Thank you very much! And have a wonderful summer ;)**_


	9. Ch 9: Ominous Meeting

CHAPTER 9

Who is it?

Or…

_What_ is it?

His shock at being discovered, his fear of the unknown creature that stood breathing behind him, rendered him immobile in both mind and body. Even if Oz wanted to see what was behind him, he couldn't, because his muscles refused to listen to his brain. However, his brain was also shocked into stillness, so it couldn't give out commands anyway. The present state that Oz was in could be the closest a human being could ever come to being a tree. It was surprising the boy did not go into cardiac arrest.

As time ticked by, the ice that had formed around Oz began to thaw, and he began to think again. The first thought that crossed his mind was: why isn't it saying anything?

As if reading his mind, the creature spoke. It had a high, vibrating tenor voice that sounded as if the world was forever in its favour, flippant yet respectful, and its pitch indicated that the voice belonged to a young man. "Why is a young boy like you up so late?" There was a smile in it, a lilt that a caring older sibling would use to younger children.

The warmth in the voice melted all of Oz's fear, and he turned around. The man, Oz saw with mild surprise, was the man who had been walking with the white-haired Alice a moment ago. The man looked exactly as his voice sounded: all smiles with a mien that conveyed a very caring soul.

"And why…are _you_ up so late?" Oz shot back.

He started in surprise, the smile vanishing for a moment, but it returned swiftly and more broadly, through which escaped a quiet laugh. "Ah, that's true. Come, let's go back to bed. Children should sleep early, if they want to grow taller."

Oz frowned in irritation. Was he calling him short?

That aside, however, there was one question that was tickling his mind. "Who was that girl you were walking with?"

The man stopped walking. "What girl?"

"You know…that girl with long white hair? She was talking with you just a while ago?"

The man continued looking truly baffled, and now even amused. "A girl with long white hair? Shouldn't you call her an old woman? Are you half asleep, kid?" He chuckled.

"No, I really mean a young girl with…oh, never mind." The man's expression made the questioning seem utterly useless. Perhaps it really was just Oz…again. Was that girl just a figment of Oz's imagination, born from his guilt about the death of Alice? Or was it really Alice's ghost, come to haunt and torment him for his mistake and his deteriorating will to commit revenge? As the hurricane of questions gathered speed in his mind, the man spoke again.

"Ah! I forgot we haven't introduced ourselves yet!"

"Oh! Uh…" Oz forced the hurricane out. "I'm Oz."

"The new servant? Ah, well, nice to meet you. I'm Jack Vessalius."

"Jack Vessalius?" The man who everyone said Oz looked like? He scrutinized the man's face; other than the green eyes and the blonde hair, they didn't resemble each other one bit.

"Yes. What is it?"

"Gil - I mean, Gilbert Nightray mentioned you once."

"Oh, you're his substitute partner, right?"

Oz nodded.

"Ah, Gil," mused Jack. An expression of dreamy amusement took hold of his features. "He and I go quite far back. I met him the very day he was adopted by Mr. Nightray. I remember finding it very curious why he was so quiet. Didn't speak at all; and when he did, it was brief."

"Were you two good friends?"

"Friends? I consider him a good friend, but he would probably think it more like…acquaintances. But because we've known each other for so long, even though the word 'friendship' might be too strong to describe the relationship between us, we're more like siblings that don't converse often. And I know enough about him to call him a 'brother'."

"How did you come to know him…like a brother? I mean, you said he didn't speak much."

"Mostly from observation, but from time to time he does talk to me. But he only started much later, once he knew me pretty well and knew he could trust me. And he told me…" Jack trailed off, seeming hesitant to mention what was going to follow.

"Told you?" Oz prodded. He didn't want to seem nosy, but this was a chance to find more about Gil, whose past and presence gave him such a burning curiosity as he had never before experienced.

"Well, he told me…" Jack stopped again, looking down, apparently trying to find the words to explain. "There was something he had lost, about ten years ago; something so precious to him that even now he feels the full brunt of the regret and pain he had those ten years ago. That incident made him a person who - well - the word 'overprotective' is too weak to explain his personality."  
>"Overprotective…yeah, I think I know what you mean." Oz recalled the time when Gil threw a more than necessary amount of anger and frustration at his substitute partner when the latter was nearly attacked, due to lack of awareness. "And what was this incident...?"<p>

Jack smiled and patted Oz head in a brotherly fashion. "That's something only he should be the one to tell. Besides, I promised him I won't tell you, so I'd be a hell of a friend to break my word."

"He made you promise not to tell me? Why _me_?" Despite understanding this as a subject one feels uncomfortable talking about - Oz knew what it felt like to lose someone or something close, he couldn't help but feel hurt at the specificity of the exclusion.

Slowly, Jack stopped walking, and then stood still, his face turned up towards the black night sky. Oz waited as well, wondering what was to become their conversation.

Then Jack turned around to face Oz, and stared directly, almost aggressively, into his eyes. There was almost a warlike force in the movement. His two hands gripped Oz's shoulders in iron claws, and after of moment of serious eye contact - to Oz, the intensity of Jack's gaze was nearly tangible and it burned into his skull - Jack spoke, though rather quietly, but turgid with solemnity, almost to a threatening degree.

"Oz. From what I've seen, from what I've observed, you are a very important person to Gil. I haven't seen him so bright in ages. He's become more cheerful in a long, long time. And I'm telling you all of this because… because I don't want him to go back to the person he became after the incident ten years ago. It's too painful to watch. And so, I implore you, please remain by his side, and look after yourself, so you won't cause him grief. Please."

Oz didn't know what to say, what to think. Someone he had never met was begging him to take care of someone he had known for only a few days. But this someone he had known for only a few days was someone he cared about more than he normally would for any other person. Like Break. Or Sharon, who, surprisingly, though pretty, did not cause as much emotional turmoil as Gil did. Gil was - Oz felt silly for thinking this, though it was true - like someone he knew well and was torn away from in a previous life. Gil was an important person to Oz.

"I won't. I'll try my best not to," he promised Jack. "But…"

"But?"

"Er, can you at least tell me what he lost?"

All he received for an answer was an enigmatic smile. Oz turned away, understanding that the conversation had ended. He wondered how he would ever get the answer to what had happened ten years ago, because this was not a topic that one can easily bring up. In silence, the two walked the rest of the way back to Uncle Oscar's cabin.

Just before Oz closed the door and bade Jack, who stood outside casually to see the boy go safely into the cabin, goodnight, the man said:

"Gil lost a precious person. Well, good night, Oz."

xxxxx

The next morning, Oz woke up groggily to meet the rest of his team, who were already standing outside in the sharp morning air on the front steps of the mansion. They were dressed in formal attire, as if to a very important event, which this probably was. Oz hoped his servant uniform was formal enough.

Together, they entered the massive ancient building. Sharon, Break and Gil looked quite bored, as if they'd already done this hundreds of times before, and no doubt they probably had. Oz, however, felt mortified, most likely due to the prospect of meeting the top boss of an enormous drug company. But…it wasn't only that. There was something else he couldn't put his finger. This anxiety he had seemed almost akin to confronting an old enemy, which was more than odd. He'd never met Zai before…right?

Oz gave his head a rapid shake to prevent further crazy thoughts.

A warm, steady hand embraced his shoulder, and Oz looked up. Gil had the corner of his mouth upturned in a soft smile, and his golden eyes twinkled of reassurance. He must have noticed Oz's anxiety.

"Don't worry, it'll be fine," he said.

"Oh. Yeah. Thanks." Oz smiled in gratitude.

All the way to Zai's office, a long walk through a very long, elegant hallway, Gil kept his hand on Oz's shoulder and kept a steady pressure on it, as if reminding Oz that there was nothing to be frightened of, that he'll always be there for him. The pressure quite effectively diluted Oz's stress, and he felt almost completely at ease by the time they reached the office.

It was huge. "Office" was not the right word; "apartment" would be more like it. French doors twice the height and four times the width of Oz led into the room, with intricate floral designs and beautiful mythical beasts carved on the frames and wave-like shapes grooved into the many pieces of glasses that made its middle. Inside, thick, deep red carpet flooded the room, upon which ancient-looking, fancy mahogany furniture was placed. Various paintings and mirrors - the frames of which resembled the frame of the office doors - decorated the golden walls. Exotic plants were placed here and there, and a marble white grand piano sat at a far right corner.

The most interesting feature of the room, however, was the office desk in the centre of it all. It was simple; there was no decoration, just a flat piece of beige wood that sat on four spindly legs of dull silver. Upon it were papers, pencils, pens, and everything one would find on an ordinary person's work table. It looked completely, if not comically, out of place.

Behind it sat a man who, Oz assumed, must be Zai. He resembled Uncle Oscar in his heavy build, with dirty blonde hair slicked back neatly over a sharply angled rectangular face. He was cleanly shaved, and there was a large scar that ran diagonally across his face, from the tip of his right eyebrow to the bottom of his left cheek, and it looked quite deep. His eyes, trained on a piece of paper on his desk, looked quite stern.

They looked up abruptly when Zai heard their arrival. He scrutinized the faces of each of the team's members. Then those eyes fell on Oz.

A blast of freezing shock knocked him so hard he had to take a step back, and Oz thought someone had opened a window. That was not the case, however: the cold that he was suddenly feeling came solely from Zai's eyes, which were looking at him with such a heavy aura of distaste and anger. It was all that Oz could do to keep from running away.

"Oz, you okay?" whispered Gil next to him. The hand on his shoulder squeezed.

"Y-yeah."

Zai stood up and opened his mouth to speak. Oz expected a harsh, deep voice full of fury, to match the coldness in those eyes, but instead, the sound that was emitted from the thinly-lipped mouth was serene, honey-like and gentle, sending Oz into a state of utter confusion about the personality of this man. Which one was real? The eyes, or the voice?

"Good morning, Sharon, Break, Gilbert - and I see we have a new face here." Zai didn't take his eyes off of Oz.

"Good morning sir," replied Break cheerfully. Sharon and Gil muttered similar greetings.

"You know the rules. Report your last mission, and take care not to miss details."

"Yes sir," said Break. Evidently he was the leader here. Break went on to describe what had happened during the mission, being brief when necessary, adding details where they were essential. During the whole time Zai stared at Oz with a steady glacial expression that neither dipped nor rose in degrees of coldness.

"…And Oz here," continued Break, "Found this." The crimson-eyed man held up the bag of sparkly pink candies. "I believe he has found a sample of the Abyss - at least, one version of it."

Zai's face went absolutely blank for a moment. He then broke into a smile, but it was one without mirth. "The Abyss? How do you know for sure?"

"Tell him, Oz," said Break.

"W-well, a friend of mine ate it, and she turned into a chain."

"A friend?"

"Y-yeah."

"Tell me about her."

How can this information possibly help him?

"Her name's Alice, and she and I grew up together in an orphanage."

He didn't reply and seemed to be mulling over what Oz had said. Then he said, "I've never seen you in Pandora before. Who are you?"

"I - uh - came looking for a job, and Uncle Oscar hired me as a servant."

His face darkened. "He hired you…without my permission? Without my consent?"

Oz looked at his team members, a little more than confused. Consent? Permission?

"Master Zai gives the official go when it comes to hiring people for Pandora, since it's his company, after all," Gil whispered to him.

"Oh."

"I wonder…" said Zai. "Well, wonderful report, Break, Sharon, Gilbert" - he shot another heavy glance at Oz - "and Oz. Your pay will be next week."

The four of them bowed and turned to go. As they filed out the enormous French doors, Oz looked back once more at Zai, at the man who emanated such an ominous aura as Oz had never before seen. With a start, he saw that Zai was also looking at him, this time with hatred.

Oz turned quickly away to leave the room.

Sticky cold sweat clung to his skin, and he couldn't shake the ominous feeling that Zai had given him, regardless of the fact that he was now out of the office with the doors closed. Why had he received such hostility?

"Hey, you all right?" came Gil's kind voice.

Oz looked up. "Yeah, I'm okay. But…"

"But?"

"Why was he looking at me like that?"

"Oh…" Gil suddenly looked uncomfortable and averted his troubled golden eyes from Oz. He seemed to know something but didn't want to give it away. Then, just as quickly as he had turned away, he looked back again at Oz, ostensibly recovered and smiling as if there was nothing wrong with the world. "I suppose he just didn't like that Oscar hired you without his consent. Didn't I tell you? He _looks _quite stern, but in truth he isn't really like that. You'll get used to him, don't worry."

"Well, whatever you say, Gil," smiled Oz, a little relieved, his anxiety lightened slightly by Gil's warm expression.

Gil flushed and looked away. "Well, then, uh…I'll see you outside." He looked truly embarrassed. Oz watched in bafflement as the seaweed head quickened his steps, walking away from Oz towards Break and Sharon in front.

Left on his own, Oz was once again submerged into a fog of bewilderment. Everything around him was so strange, and he knew they were all related to one another, but what irritated the hell out of his mind was how he could not see the connections. Absolutely no connections, however vague, appeared to him between all the strange incidents that had recently occurred to him - Alice's death, Jack Vessalius, the white Alice, Gil's sudden moments of unease, the mounds of questions he had and now Zai. Could they be all related?

Or was it just all in his mind? His paranoid mind, possibly warped from the impact of Alice's - his best friend's - death?

Something black and wooly flew past his cheek and covered his mouth and nose. It smelled odd. From the unrelenting grip of the mysterious hand Oz knew it belonged to something unfriendly, possibly deadly, and he screamed out for Gil's name. It gripped Oz's muzzle even harder, however, and stifled the sound. Before Oz could summon any amount of physical strength to retaliate, the strange smell of the wool blurred his vision and sucked him into a void of darkness.

_**From this chapter on, all the mysteries that Oz has been suffering from will be unraveling (and I mean officially so…no more "more questions than answers" thing). Yes! **_

_**I have a question for you. You see, I planned out the entire story before I began writing, but there was one part that I didn't: the very ending. Which is more important to you: the absolute settlement of the Oz/Gil coupling, or the resolution of the story plot? Which one should "come out" more? :( I can't decide. **_

_**THANK YOU to all readers for keeping up with this story, and to all reviewers: your words fuel my imagination and motivation to write :) I will continue to try my best for you XD (yeah I know it sounds cliché but it's true!)**_

_**(Oh yeah…I might add a couple of chapters about Gil's perception in this story :3 that'll be fun :D)**_


	10. Ch 10: Father and Son

CHAPTER 10

Waking up without knowing where you are, without knowing how you got there, is perhaps the strangest and most disturbing sensation. For a moment, because this important information is beyond your grasp, your identity and past memories temporarily escape you as well. It is like swimming in the middle of an ocean, but without knowing which way was up or down. Panic could easily enslave and imprison you at such moments.

However, at some point you do remember. Oz slowly found his way out of the murk. He saw that he was chained to a dirty wall and his arms were quite sore. As he looked around, trying to gain a bearing, he realized with a shock he was in the same underground room he had fallen in a few days ago, an incident that was so bizarre he now considered to be simply a bad dream. The ache in his arms, the bitter taste at the back of his throat and the roughness of the dirt walls indicated that this was definitely reality.

There was something missing. Oz thought hard. What was it? The room seemed a little different than the last time he was here.

He looked around again. The white Alice's cage was still present, right next to him. The slits between the bars were still as narrow as ever, and through it Oz saw the thin, sleeping girl, whose loose body may as well have belonged to the dead.

"Awake, finally, I see," came a deep honey voice, disturbingly familiar to Oz.

Oz turned his eyes to the direction of the voice and saw that it was Zai. He was standing at a far corner. The darkness of the room prevented Oz from seeing the man's face, but the rigidity of the body clearly indicated a suppression of anger.

"What did I do to you…?" Oz opened his mouth to speak; his tongue was incredibly stiff and sour, and forming those six words was like wading about in liquid concrete.

Zai walked towards Oz slowly, menacingly. He stopped within a mere breath away, and then bent down to look at Oz in the eyes. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were cold. The scar on Zai's face looked like a gash that opened into a red void of nothingness.

"Do you not remember, boy?"

"R-remember?"

The towering man stared at Oz's face for another moment, then turned away to pace about the room.

"Unfortunately, you are my_ son_."

…Father?

No. No. This can't be true.

But if it was, then why…?

"When I got rid of you ten years ago, to an obscure orphanage far away from here, I would have never realized that you would find your way back. If you hadn't found the Abyss, I might have let you live."

"W-what?" Oz was so confused. So confused. His words didn't connect at all.

"You really don't remember! Well," chuckled Zai darkly, "it won't hurt to tell you, since you will not be given the chance to tell others."

Oz waited for the explanation he had unconsciously been seeking his entire life: who he was, why he was born, and why his parents left him.

"Your mother was so beautiful, Oz. So beautiful. I loved her with all my heart - I still do. Everything was wonderful - Jack, your mother and I were a wonderful family. Then she came down with a disease that caused a deficiency in blood, but the doctor said it was curable. She was pregnant with you at the time. When she gave birth to you, however, her blood level dropped beyond control and she…she passed away. " He stopped, his back towards Oz.

Nothing came to Oz's mind. His emotional tolerance level had overloaded; all the emotions that fought to rush through completely blocked the hole through which they usually travel. Oz was afraid that if he tried to free them, he would explode from the pressure. It left him utterly speechless.

Zai's voice continued, not fluctuating in volume, but progressively concentrated with anger and fury. "It was entirely your fault. Your fault that she died. If you hadn't been born, she wouldn't have died. You shouldn't have been born. Your existence_ is a mistake_!" Suddenly Zai whipped around and jammed an iron fist into Oz's cheek. His jaw cracked painfully at the impact.

"And it didn't - doesn't - help that you resemble her so much," the man continued softly. "I had to send you away. I don't want to see you ever again. And you know too much about the Abyss for your being alive to be safe for my company. Jack," he said, motioning to a corner that was drowned in complete darkness.

From it emerged the man Oz had met the night before. He stared in shock as the blonde-haired man approached them, his face as flat as his father's. He had a two-faced personality? Were his words last night all just a sugar coating hiding a rather rotten core?

"Give him the gas again." Zai turned to Oz. "Now I'll learn from my mistake. I should have known better than to have kept you alive."

"Why did you?" asked Oz before he could stop himself.

Zai's cold face darkened. For a rather long while the father and the son stared at one another, until the former broke it by turning away and exiting the room in silence.

Jack leaned down to Oz with a piece of wet black wool. "Forgive me," he said softly. Oz resigned to the situation and allowed the cloth to wrap around his nose and mouth. He took a deep breath to speed up the process while mentally bidding Break, Sharon and most of all, Gil, goodbye, wondering if they'll miss him.

Before he slipped into oblivion again, he remembered what was missing from the room.

That thick, musky odour.

xxxxx

"…ake up."

Wha…?

"…Oz, wake up! Please," came a smooth tenor voice that floated towards him like a small wave. "Please, Oz…" It sounded so wounded.

Slowly, Oz lifted his rather heavy lids. Gil's pale and worried face was the first thing he saw and, to his shock, was quite close. Two trembling cold hands cupped Oz's cheeks, and he could see that the beautiful pale face was etched with deep lines of concern. Rapid, hot puffs of sweet breath hovered about them. The liquid-golden eyes gave Oz all the warmth his body needed to live.

"Ahh…am I in heaven?" breathed Oz happily.

The hands on his face went rigid for a moment, the dark, ringed skin around the bright eyes tightening, and then the cheeks reddened in colour so gradually that Oz could actually see the movement of the blood across the flesh. "No, Oz, you're not. Don't say that again; you're still with me. You understand?" The voice was high, a bit strained.

The sharp concern and frustration in the tone tugged Oz out of his hazy drunken state, snapping the boy's mind back to reality. He was still in the same dark room. He was still cuffed to the dirt wall. Before him stood Gil and Jack, who held a small silver key in his hand. Zai, however, was nowhere in sight.

"Wha-? What's going on?"

"Oz, listen. We're going to get you out," said Gil.

Jack stepped towards him with the key and began working at the lock that chained his hands to the wall. Oz looked back at Gil, who squeezed Oz's hand in an act of reassurance.

"I'm okay," he said. Gil looked like the one who needed reassuring. His eyes were wild with concern.

Gil tried to smile in return.

Oz then noticed that the cage beside him no longer contained the girl with flowing white hair. It was empty. "Jack…where is the girl next to us?" Jack didn't reply, apparently focusing on the lock with intense concentration. "Oh, and how come the room doesn't smell weird?"

"Weird?" asked Gil, surprised.

"I've been here before, and it had this thick musky smell…"

A small click sounded, and suddenly Oz's arms fell to the floor. He tried lifting them, but as soon as his muscles contracted, it was like all of hell's fire was searing his flesh. They were completely pale and cold; for the last several hours no blood had been flowing into them and thus the nerves were temporarily on strike.

"You won't be moving your arms for awhile," whispered Jack. "As for your questions, I'll tell you everything later. Everything. But first we must get your out. Father will be back soon to see if I've killed you yet, and we've got to get out before he comes."

Oz nodded in agreement and stood up stiffly. Gil supported him with strong arms and guided him towards a door hidden in the side of the room under pitch black shadows. Jack opened the door slowly, so as not to make a creak, but right outside -

-there stood Zai, like Cerberus guarding Hades.

"You…" he seethed, glaring murderously at Jack.

"F-father, I - I…" Jack stumbled backwards, shocked that the man would return so soon.

Zai scrutinized all three of them, his scarred face turning uglier and uglier from fury with every second, becoming so red the skin of his face might have been burnt leather, and just when Oz thought the man would explode, he threw back his head and burst with a frightening, maniacal laughter.

Jack, Gil and Oz stared dumbly, at a loss for what to do while the man laughed his heart away.

When he finally stopped, his face was wild. "Well," he said, "instead of killing one of you, I'm afraid I'll need to kill all three." Swiftly, he slashed out a gun and pointed it at Oz before they could react. Just before the finger pulled the trigger Gil pushed Oz to the ground while Jack ran up to Zai to stop his father. Zai flung the man away into the wall as if he was a fly.

"Don't defy me! You will be first to go!" With an enormous paw he grabbed Jack's neck and began to squeeze, turning the gasping man's face blue.

"Stop!" cried Oz from the ground. "He's your son!"

"Shut up!" The man shot wildly at Oz's direction, but missing. "Blood ties mean nothing to me. They are simply sentimental ideals that weak people use as protection."

What a warped perception of the world this man had, thought Oz. Was this man really his father?

Zai continued squeezing Jack's life out of his body. Oz couldn't stand it, but there was nothing he could do; he was much too physically weak to stop him. As he stared uselessly, Gil suddenly lurched towards the hulking man and butted him in the ribs.

It worked. The force applied was large enough to send the man sideways and the shock forced Zai to let his hand go. Jack coughed at the sudden intake of air and gasped as he tried to regain his breathing pattern.

The villain stood up again. The push wasn't enough to shake him. He looked wildly at Gil, who was patting the back of his injured older son, and deciding that they could be dealt with later, turned to Oz.

"You…how I hate you." His eyes were dark voids beneath the deep arch of his brow. "You took away my wife's life. I spare yours, in exchange for distance from you, yet you come back. And I heard" - suddenly a maniacal grin crept across his face - "that you'd killed your best _friend_."

Those words began to prick open the scab that had been forming across the wound on Oz's heart, and he could feel again the sharp, chilling sensation that was guilt he had nearly forgotten about the past few days.

"So I believe one death should be paid by another, don't you think?" he whispered with a hint of insanity. Then he raised a gun, his thick index finger stroking the trigger. Oz gulped.

Then Gil fired a gun.

The sound sent vibrations strong enough to shake a cloud of dirt from the ceiling. Oz saw that Gil had pulled out a small black gun from his overcoat. The look in the man's eyes was more frightening than Oz had ever seen; its yellow was nearly orange with excess blood and the expression verged on that of a wild, rabid beast. He looked as if he were capable of anything, as if humanity was stripped from him. He looked like a different man.

Zai had dropped his gun, and was slowly raising his hands. He wore an uncertain grin. "What's this, Gil? Would you really shoot someone who's taken you in, given you a home?"

Gil did not answer. Oz thought, from the inhuman wildness that glowed from his face, that perhaps he was incapable of verbal communication by now.

"I've always found your…_loyalty_…to my younger son rather amusing. Why, Gil?" From the tone of his voice Oz felt that Zai was more teasing Gil than actually questioning, which seemed quite a dangerous thing to do, given how on edge the young man was right now. "Is it…because of guilt?" Zai was definitely teasing now; he was moving closer to Gil's gun, which had begun to tremble.

Then Zai's voice turned into a whisper, and Oz could just barely make out the words. "No, it's not guilt. I've seen your eyes when you talk about him…when you look at him. I believe…it's an _obsession_."

Gil simply lost it.

There was an audible snap as a blood vessel inside his crimson forehead burst from an overabundance of the red fluid. His eyes seemed as if they lost sight and were simply shrouded windows while his entire body began to shake with progressively larger and more violent tremors. Oz couldn't understand the source of his fury and madness, but he knew Gil was going to press the trigger.

He couldn't let that happen. Oz didn't know where on earth he made the following conclusion, but: no matter how horrible Zai had been, he was still his father. The one and only family he had.

His legs, sensing his fear, began running towards the two men. Oz reached out, trying to reach between Zai and the gun before the latter was fired. He could already see Gil's tightly gloved finger slowly curl around the trigger.

"Sto-!"

_ Bang._

Did he make it in time?

Oz looked up. He heard a rumbling laughter erupt behind him, in which the tint of insanity indicated that it came from Zai. The sound thundered around his head as he stared at Gil, who had, in the moment the trigger was pulled, switched his expression from that of incurable choler to one of utmost regret and horror, as if someone had attached strings to his facial muscles and pulled back hard. Those yellow eyes were so large and round they were nearly comical, and Oz would have laughed were it not for the strange, piercing pain that was growing inside his chest.

The pain grew stronger and louder, with no signs of stopping. His brain became so preoccupied in containing it that his other senses began to dull, and Zai's loud laughter was the first to disappear. Next, his vision began to fade. Gil grew fuzzy around the edge, and Oz could just barely make out his face.

At first, Oz didn't realize what had just happened. But when he looked down and saw a small black hole in the middle of his chest through which steaming crimson liquid pumped out, he thought, rather numbly, _Oh, I see. Gil must be so worried._

By this time Oz was barely hanging onto the thin thread of consciousness. He had to tell Gil not to worry, however, before he lost his grip. He had to tell…tell…

Gil…

The world began to blacken and fade away into a black void. The darkness beyond felt surprisingly warm and soft, a welcome change and environment compared to the mind-consuming pain and the harsh reality that Oz had suffered from all his life. Without really thinking, following only his primal human desire to escape from pain, he stepped across into the nothingness and embraced the darkness.

_**I am terribly sorry for the delay…it's been quite busy the past week :( but I hope you enjoyed this chapter and THANK YOU SO MUCH again to all reviewers and readers who have been following. Any drop interest of yours in this story means the world to me.**_

_**(Zai's character was so hard to portray! First, because I don't know enough about him, and second, he's not exactly a favourite character of mine. I'm not sure I pulled it off…oh wells. I'll come back to improve it later.) **_


	11. Ch 11: Letting Go

CHAPTER 11

"Hey Oz."

"Alice? Wha…what?"

"What's with that stupid face? Be glad to see me!" A soft punch landed in his stomach.

"I'm sorry…"

"Don't be."

"Uh…" Alice, in her perpetual cuteness and flowing ebony hair, stood beside him. They were inside an endless black tunnel, the walls of which were freckled with what looked like tiny glowing stars that danced and flitted around like fireflies. One darted around his hand and touched his skin, but there was no sensation in the encounter. Oz noticed that he wasn't breathing and that there was no air. _This must be a dream_, he thought, amused. He glanced at Alice, who seemed to sort of shimmer in the darkness, like an angel. Her features were sharper and smoother than he had remembered of her when she was still alive. Everything felt very surreal.

"Where are we? Am I…dead?" he asked.

"I am. But you're not. This place is the gateway between the living and the next life...whatever that is."

Oz frowned. "You mean you've never been there?"

She whipped her head around to look Oz directly into his eyes, and the intensity of her violet eyes had Oz twitching a little. "No. Why? Because of _you_."

"What? How?" If Alice was dead, then she should have gone on to the next world...

Alice sighed, then jumped - and _floated in the air_. Effortlessly, she swam once around Oz as if casually taking a physical survey of him and spoke at the same time. "You're still holding onto me, Oz, and your grasp on my soul is so strong its stopping me from moving on to the next world. Do you have any idea how annoying that is?" Alice swiped at Oz's head. "I see souls who died later than I did move on before I do while I'm trapped here, watching, through our link, your daily life."

"You've been watching me?"

"Well of course I was! I had no other choices! Either watch you or wait here in the dark playing with these lights until I go insane."

"Oh."

"And what I saw…" Alice quieted her voice, and a tenderness creeped into her tone. She looked away. "I'm really flattered by what you're doing for me, Oz. I've never lost anyone before, so I can only sympathize. But you need to let me go. It won't do either of us any good. That day was my fault - "

"No it wasn't!" said Oz, feeling a fresh wave of guilt. "I should have taken that bag away from you -"

"Shut up and let me finish!" She made another swipe at Oz's head. While he stopped talking to nurse his wound - which was evidently her very intention - she continued. "It was my fault because I chose to ate it even though I knew I shouldn't. I was just curious and acted against my own judgment. What you regretted not telling me was something I already knew."

Oz looked up, surprised. "You…did?"

"Yep. I was. Don't take me for an ignorant brat; I'm not that stupid." She sighed. "So it wasn't your fault."

He sat down, a little overwhelmed by this new information. "You knew…?" But he still felt a little guilty for not having used more force to get the bag away from her.

Alice floated down to his eye level, and with her glowing pale hands, lifted his face up. "Do you understand, Oz? Don't hang on to it. Everybody makes mistakes, and the people who win are those that learn from it and move on. It's just another landmark in your life. If you get stuck there you'll be in the same place forever and miss a lot of good things. So, Oz," she implored breathily, "let me go?"

Oz blinked back tears. It was so hard, but he knew he had to do it. For her happiness. For his own.

Then he could see it. A chain linking her to him. It had no visible form, but for some reason he felt and could see its glowing shape that twirled around them, connecting her heart to his own. He pulled on it - it hurt - but he felt it move, so he pulled harder. He kept doing so until it was completely out. As soon as it left his chest, the chain dissolved into nothingness, leaving behind a spectacular spray of more sparkly fireflies that immediately dispersed into the black walls. At once he felt an enormous pressure lift from his chest, and he nearly smiled at the sensation.

Alice went ballistic with joy. "Hurrah! Yeah! Woohoo! Finally, after all these days, I'm _freeeee_!" She zoomed around in the space with contagious vigour. Oz laughed with her and felt a golden, fuzzy feeling bathe him from head to toe.

Soon, she stopped, and became a little more serious. "Well, Oz, I'll be going soon. And you will, too. Come, I'll show you where." She floated off.

Oz followed, curious. He walked until she stopped by two strange holes that opened in thin air. One was a brilliantly white hole through which there was nothing but blinding whiteness, and the other was a smotheringly black hole through which one could see nothing but stifling blackness.

"What are they?" asked Oz.

"You have two choices. Oz, right now, your body is on the threshold of death because the bullet was too close to your heart. It's up to you whether to step back or over. The white hole allows you to live. You join me if you go through the black one."

Oz looked at the tempting black hole. It looked warm and fuzzy, whereas the white one seemed intense and a tad frightening.

Alice saw the direction of Oz's gaze, and pushed him towards the white one. "Not that I'm going to let you choose. You're not dead yet Oz. Everyone walks through the black hole one day - but for you, that won't be today. There're too many people who'll miss you."

Oz turned to Alice, and gave her a hug. This time, he let the tears flow, and he didn't care that the lump in his throat broke his voice as he spoke. "I guess this really means goodbye." He squeezed his eyes in discomfort as a river of warmth poured out of his eyes.

To his surprise, the tomboy Alice sounded a little choked up too. "Yeah, it is. I'll miss you, Oz."

"I'll miss you too."

They held on to each other for a few moments longer. Then they let go and each turned to face their designated hole. They smiled one last time at one another before they jumped.

xxxxx

Oz opened his eyes.

He was back in Gil's room, but this time, instead of waking up with Gil beside him reading a book upside down, he woke up to see Jack staring intently at his face. A radiant smile lit up in the man's brilliant eyes as he witnessed his little brother waking up.

"Oz!"

Jack suddenly lunged towards and nearly suffocated him in an eager hug. Oz didn't mind, however; he felt strangely happy too, but as the embrace became tighter and tighter as Jack's joy exponentiated in quantity, Oz tried to lift a hand to push him away. But there was something that was holding his hand back, though. A warm pressure that wouldn't let go. Oz looked over Jack's shoulder and saw, with a start, that Gil had his face down on the blankets, asleep, while he held firmly onto Oz's hand.

While Oz had his moment of surprise, Jack finally released the boy. "How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good. Strangely light, though."

Jack chuckled. "And…your chest?"

Oz looked down and saw the layers of bandages that wrapped around his torso like that of a mummy, in the middle of which was a faint smudge of red. A sudden flood of memories washed over him and he looked at Gil, then at Jack.

"What happened? How long have I been asleep?"

Before Jack could answer Gil stirred and opened his eyes. The two brothers watched the man as he sat up, slightly disoriented from sleep, trying to refocus his eyes on the environment. As soon as he saw Oz awake, Gil let go of the boy's hand and stood up abruptly, knocking his chair over. Without an explanation of any sorts he stormed out of the room.

Oz stared after Gil's rigid back in disbelief, utterly confused.

Jack sighed and scratched his head. "Oh, I'm sorry, Oz. But, um, Gil's been blaming himself for you comatose state the past few weeks -"

"_Weeks_?" Oz was horrified. What on earth? Has it really been that long?

"Only two and a half, to be exact. It's a miracle you're not dead. The bullet grazed your heart and nearly severed the aorta! We had a brilliant doctor come look at you and even he said that your chance of survival stood barely past nil."

Oz felt his chest and thought about his encounter with Alice in the surreal tunnel between life and death. It wasn't unbelievable. He could just have easily gone down the black hole.

"And Gil hasn't been sleeping or eating properly at all. He's been in this room with you almost every single day since he shot you. Which leads to the question - why did you do that?"

Oz looked down, embarrassed. "Well, because…he was family. I felt that I couldn't stand there doing nothing. It would feel…wrong."

Jack took Oz's hand in his own and squeezed it. "I know. But Zai had it coming. His many employees, I've heard, have begun to resent him for his increasingly tyrannical ways."

Oz looked up sharply, which caused Jack to sigh and say, "And I suppose I owe you an explanation."

"Please tell me." _A_ _little late in coming_, thought Oz.

"Pandora was just a regular drug company before you were born. Aside from the fact that our father was the president, we were a pretty normal family, going out to dinner from time to time, celebrating birthday parties, and other such things. Our mother was always a person with blood pressure problems, so when she was pregnant with you, her health kind of deteriorated. Father was, of course, over his head with worry." Jack smiled sadly.

Oz waited for more. This part he knew; Zai had told him this part of the story, but it was what followed that made him curious.

"Father went around trying to find medicines that could ease her pain. He called over so many doctors from so many different places that for a period of time we had a visit from one at least every day, even two. Then there was one day when he took me for a walk, and we met two abandoned girls on the street, who I got into a fight with. One was albino, the other was not, and they looked like twins."

"Are they…is she - the albino - the girl I saw with you the other day?" asked Oz.

"Yes. Her name is Alyss. She bit me, and the strangest thing happened to the skin around the bite. It grew, almost cancerously, until my skin , because he was a bit of a medical genius, concluded that there as something in her saliva causing multiplication of cells, and decided he could use it to help mother increase he production of blood."

"So you're saying," said Oz with shock, "that it's Pandora that's producing the drug Abyss?"

"It's a little more complicated than that, but yes. Father found that the black-haired Alice was nothing but an ordinary girl and wanted to get rid of her, but he couldn't, because the two girls were as tight as chains. So he took them both in and experimented on Alyss' saliva. Eventually he made a compound out of it and prepared a sample for mother as the day of your birth approached."

"I was wondering…" asked Oz timidly, when there was finally a space in the explanation he could take, "does Gil come in any of this?" Although it seemed like a strange, random question, Oz really wanted to know if his episodes of nostalgia during his time with Gil meant or indicated anything significant in his past.

"Oh? Do you remember something?"

"No, it's just that sometimes I feel like I've seen Gil somewhere, but it's really weird so it's probably nothing," said Oz hastily.

"Yes, Gil is somewhat involved in the incident. He was an orphan picked up by one of the four vice presidents of the company - Nightray, to be precise - and was raised in his household. I think the old man really loved the boy and wanted him to hold a good position in the company. So Nightray asked father to provide a job for the Gil. It was during this time also that you were born. Your mother had excessive bleeding, and even after she took the sample of the drug father had prepared for weeks, she died.

"Father went into shock with grief. He gave Gil the job of babysitting you, and tried not to think about you as he tried moving on with his life."

"Gil was my…babysitter?" It felt so strange to have a story told about himself that he didn't remember. It seems like a story that belonged to someone else.

"Yes. And I never saw him so happy. I think he was about nine, and he truly loved you. He even swore he would protect you from harm forever."  
>Somehow, Oz blushed.<p>

Jack didn't notice and continued. "All the while father was going mad with grief. Because you were his son, he still had to see you from time to time, and because you resembled your mother so much he couldn't bear to look at you without remembering her death and his failure. Soon, he began to direct his blame on you, and started plotting to put you away. He needed a confidante, and I was the only person he trusted who he could whisper to about his plans and thoughts every night. I was too young then to understand what was going on, so I couldn't stop him."

"What did he do?"

"I believe he also came to dislike the Nightrays and wanted to keep some distance between them, so he decided to make it seem as if you'd died because of Gil. I don't remember exactly what he did, because I was at a friend's house, but the story I heard was this: that Gil had set the kitchen on fire while you were with him and you had burned to death. During the commotion he took you and Alice away from here and put you into the orphanage.

"I believe Gil fell for the scheme as well, and he was never the same afterwards. He kept blaming himself for your death, you, the one jewel in his life, and to have lost you by his own hands was - I can't even imagine. When he found out you were still alive, his joy must have been almost a tangible object. And just a couple of weeks ago, when you nearly died again by his hands - any normal human being cannot handle the stress of such fluctuating emotions."  
>So that was how Oz lived the life that he had. The world seemed to shrink a little now that Oz knew a little more about his history, and to know that Gil had known him from the start made Oz ridiculously happy, until he remembered Zai.<p>

"Then where is Zai - father - now?"

Jack looked at him strangely but there was an unmistakable sadness in his expression. "After you passed out, Gil was in too much shock and I was too far away to do anything as our father took the gun and…and took his own life. He said he couldn't live this anymore."

"Oh." The happiness he felt from thinking about Gil gave way to a soft flood of sadness. He will never see his father again…

"You know what I think, Oz?" Jack prompted, with a little twinkle in his eyes.

Oz looked at him. "What is it?"

"I think, after all that had happened, father couldn't bring himself to hate you. He loved your mother too much to hate anyone that looked like her. That was why he couldn't kill you and he wouldn't kill you himself."

Jack stood up and ruffled Oz's mop of blonde hair. "I think I should stop talking now and have you sleep a bit. You still have much too recover and I think you need some time to think over what I've just told you. It's a lot, isn't it?"

Oz nodded gratefully and felt a little sleepiness creep into his eyes.

"Well, then, I'll be leaving. Sleep tight." Jack smiled. He turned around and left the room.

Now Oz was alone. Instead of feeling turmoil like every past time something about Pandora was revealed to him, he only felt peace. Peace that Alice had forgiven him. Peace that he knew about his family. Peace that he had closure about everything that has ever happened to him. For the first time in his life, Oz felt satisfied.

While he brooded, the door opened again and Oz expected Jack to come through and say that he had one last thing to impart to his little brother.

But it wasn't Jack.

All of Oz's sleepiness disappeared as a messy ebony-haired head emerged shyly from behind the door.

_**Almost near the end! Thank you for following the story this far! And I hope all of you are having a great summer.**_

_**I'd really like to thank **_kilohoku92 _**and **_Lacie's Tune_** for so dedicatedly reviewing every chapter coming out…I feel really very warm and grateful for your kind and encouraging words. I'm so happy that you've been enjoying my stories :')**_


	12. Ch 12: Reconciliation

CHAPTER 12

Slowly, as if he were trying to walk on a string suspended in midair, Gil stepped towards the bed Oz sat in, obviously exerting effort not to look into his eyes. Oz watched, silent, understanding that he needed time to initiate the conversation himself. It seemed like forever before Gil finally sat down on the chair Jack had just left from, scratching his mop of black hair with jerky movements, seeming incredibly embarrassed and melancholy for reasons Oz waited patiently to hear.

Some time passed before Gil finally spoke. "How are you feeling?" His voice was soft and tender.

"I'm feeling good."

Another eternity of silence strolled by.

Gil spoke again. "I'm…I'm sorry."

"About what?"

"Your…your wound. A-and your father. I'm sorry."

"Why should you be sorry?" Oz tried to keep a light tone as he attempted to cheer Gil up. "It was inevitable for Za- for my father. And my wound…that was entirely my own fault, because it was me who stepped in your way."

Gil fidgeted, evidently dissatisfied with Oz's explanation. In fact, he seemed more uncomfortable than ever.

Oz furrowed his brow, genuinely confused and slightly hurt that he would keep silent when he should really open his heart. "Gil, what is it?"

Several times Gil's mouth opened and closed, struggling to find the right words, but still, it closed without a single sound. His eyes were trained down at the floor, as it had been ever since he stepped into the room.

Oz sighed. "Gil…Jack told me about…about your history. A-and how we are connected in our pasts."

Gil had suddenly stopped fidgeting, but he still wouldn't look at Oz. But the boy took his lack of movement as a good sign, so he continued.

"I want to tell you that in the past few days, I've had this strange nostalgia when I'm around you, so I guess haven't totally forgotten about you. Jack told me how important we were to each another-"

"_Were_?" So abruptly did Gil speak, albeit softly, that Oz was startled for a moment. "_Were_? It's all…past tense to you?" The yellow golden eyes suddenly looked up and pierced into Oz's own. It was filled with pain, sadness…and regret.

"No…no! That's not what I meant!" The boy flushed. "I - I mean, well, I suppose we still are. I mean, you saved me so many times the past several days I don't know how I'll ever thank you. I know it's kind of embarrassing to say this, but…I feel really safe and calm when you're around. Jack also told me what happened when my father put me away, and I…I'm really sorry, for what happened-"

Oz's words were cut off as Gil, without any notice of any sort, sprang forward and wrapped Oz tightly in his arms, giving no notice to the boy's flinch of pain, looking wild with pain and relief as if Oz might be lost to him forever had he not grabbed the boy into his arms. He was trembling.

"Gil…?"

"Sorry? Why are you sorry?" Gil whispered. Even with a voice so soft, the sound was spilling with his turgid emotions. "It's me who should be sorry. I've done so much…tried so much to save you, help you, find you…yet I still lost you twice. Twice. Each time was because I didn't look after you well. Yet you would still forgive me. I don't deserve you, Oz. Oz…" Gil began to shake.

"Gil…" Oz felt humbled that he had such affection from Gil, and hugged back fiercely. He had to disagree with one point, though. "But no, it was definitely not your fault. First time, you were tricked. Second time, I hurt myself on purpose. You had no part in them. I've learned a lot since Alice left me, and I know now that it's better to move on than to dwell on past mistakes. Please let it go. For both yourself…and me."

He released his grip slightly, but didn't entirely let Oz out of his arms. Gil simply moved so that he could look fully at Oz's face, and under the intense gaze of his smoldering golden eyes, Oz couldn't help but squirm and was a little irritated that he had no control over his facial blood vessels, which eagerly filled themselves up with blood.

"G-Gil? So will you…will you l-let yourself be happy?" Oz found it difficult to speak in the rising heat. "We're good friends, I think, so I would never think to hold a grudge."

"Friends?"

"Yes."

"Do you truly think of us as just friends?" Gil looked a little hurt.

"No! I mean yes! I mean, wha-"

"Oz, do you know how long I've held back?"

Before full realization hit Oz, Gil leaned in, and touched his lips on Oz's own. It was soft, not at all forceful, and bittersweet in the way that all first kisses are. For the first few seconds Oz's eyes widened in utter, mind-exploding surprise, but he found that it wasn't unpleasant. In fact, Oz found that he secretly enjoyed it. But he was too shy to return the gesture.

Gil slowly, as if reluctantly, drew back. Then he blushed so suddenly it was comical and jumped back as if realizing what he had just done. "Oz…I'm so…sorry…oh crap…I didn't mean to - I was -"

"Stop." Oz stepped off the bed, not caring that he was half nude, and took Gil's shaking hand into his own, squeezing it to stop the tremors. He held Gil's bright eyes in a fierce gaze. "It's fine. I think…" Oz blushed. "I think I liked it."

Gil stared back at him, astonished, with a hint of happiness.

Then their moment, the mood that took so long to build up, was completely undermined by a chaotic fling of the door by Jack.

_Bang!_

"Ola, you two! How are you two faring?" The blonde haired man stood grinning like a proud idiot who'd just slain a dragon. Oz looked away in embarrassment, feeling his face incrimson beyond belief, and saw that Gil looked about to kill, his expression reverting dangerously closely to the one he had worn back in the underground dungeon with Zai.

Jack's grin turned upside down by degrees as he gradually realized what had occurred. "Oh."

"Yes. Oh." Gil was livid.

"I'm sorry. Should I step back out?"

"A lot of good that will do." He turned to confront the man.

"I…was just…going to show Oz…"

"What?"

"Show Oz…_her._ Come out, Alyss."

Behind him stepped out a carbon copy of Oz's childhood friend, except with flowing silver white hair. She was shy, and clutched to Jack's green overcoat like a child to mother.

Beside him, Oz felt Gil tense. Oz wondered what aspect of this harmless little girl could possibly make Gil defensive, but his wonder soon ended as Jack spoke.

"Come on, Alyss," he said gently, affectionately. "The boy you see there, Oz, he was very good friends with your sister."

At the mention of "sister", she looked at him with a sudden innocent and eager expression, and lost all her former demeanor of shyness by moving away from Jack and towards him with spritely energy. "You've known my sister? How is she?"

Oz opened his mouth to speak, but didn't know what to say. Should he tell her that her dear sister was no longer alive? It troubled him to think that he might ruin her innocent happiness, and he looked towards Jack for guidance. To his surprise, Jack simply nodded and mouthed the word, "Truth."

"She…Alice is…was…"said Oz, "Alice was my best friend. But she's…dead."

Oz braced himself.

Fortunately, he didn't have to. Either Alyss was used to people around her dying, or she'd grown so far apart from her sister the news didn't make an impact, or she simply had no clear idea what death was; but whatever the reason, the girl saddened by only half the degree deemed normal in such situations where news of a beloved relative dies. She looked genuinely grieved, though, and said, "So she's not here anymore?"

"No," answered Oz softly.

"Then…what was she like?" She looked hopeful.

"Oh," Oz smiled as a flood of memories warmed his mind, "she was wonderful. Beautiful and very smart. She saved me lots of times and was like a princess to me."

Alyss beamed from hearing such compliments about her sister, and stepped forward to give Oz a hug with her milk-white slender arms. Oz hugged back and buried his head in her white hair, for a moment imagining he was back in Alice's arms, which wasn't difficult to do: Alyss had the exact same bittersweet scent as her sister had.

A large hand grasped his shoulder gently, and Oz let go to see Gil looking very stiff over his shoulder. Oz made himself a mental note to ask Gil later about what was wrong.

Alyss flounced back to Jack like a graceful little ghost. Jack placed a hand around her shoulder and addressed Oz and Gil, "Well, it's nearly lunchtime. Would you like to join our picnic outside?"

"Yes!" agreed Oz. At the mention of food, he suddenly realized just how dreadfully hungry he was.

"See you out there then," replied Jack. With Alyss in his arm, Jack and the little girl stepped out of the door and disappeared into the hallway to the right. Oz tugged Gil's sleeve and made to follow the couple, but the man reached for Oz's hand and held him back.

"What is it?" asked Oz.

"Er…you haven't dressed yet," observed Gil, embarrassed, "here's your clothes."

Oz blushed and dressed. As Gil watched Oz button up his shirt, he said, "Are you sure you're well enough to move?"

"Oh, I feel very well, Gil. Thank you, but please don't worry."

"Oz…" Gil suddenly drew him close, disregarding that Oz had not finished, "What do you think of Alice, now?"

So _that _was what had been bothering him. Oz chuckled. "She's my best friend, Gil. Nothing more, but nothing less."

Looking only slightly convinced, Gil released Oz from his grip.

"Anyways," asked Oz, trying to fill in the silence that hung restlessly in the air as he finished dressing up, "what is going to happen to Pandora?"

"I believe Jack is going to temporarily take over the company, having been both Zai's confidant and assistant president. I heard that they'll be nullifying the research program on the Abyss, and Jack is going to figure out what to do get everything back in order. He said that you may stay in his house if you like. You…will, won't you?" added Gil hopefully.

"I suppose so," shrugged Oz, "I have nowhere else to go."

All done now, Oz looked at Gil to signal that they could go. He offered a hand, which Gil took with a heart-warmingly joyous look on his face. Then Gil looked directly into Oz's eyes. The golden brightness sparkled and shined as he smiled and asked softly, "Please don't leave me again?"

Oz smiled and hugged Gil affectionately.

"I won't."

~~~THE END~~~

_**Goodness, I can't believe it. It's the first time I have ever finished a story. And twelve chapters too, no less! Of course, I wouldn't have finished this without my readers and reviewers' support. I can't thank you enough for having followed me these months; please tell me what you thought about it! Thank you so much again.**_

_**I am currently working on stories for 07 Ghost, X-Men and Thor. I hope some of you might take a look at them; if not, I hope you will find many good treasures from this wonderful website of FanFiction. :)**_

_**Have a great summer!**_


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